I Wish
by kibaxkaori
Summary: For a time, Harry respected Dumbledore's wishes. He went by the rules. Now, he's sick of it. He's tired of being a puppet on a string. It's his turn to play the game. HP/TR
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, so, if you read my other stories, which you probably don't, you'll know that I've been reviewing and editing my stories, which I could use for an excuse as to why an update for this story has been so long coming. But that would be a lie. Anyway, nothing important has been changed, but a new chapter has been added, so please enjoy!**

**1**

"_I will create domestic fury and civil strife. Blood and destruction will be so common when I am done that mothers will smile to see their children cut down. And [his] ghost will walk the Earth and with the voice of a king cry 'Havoc!' and let loose the dogs of war."_

_ -Shakespeare_

The oppressive silence of the dark, cloud-filled day covered the entirety of Privet Drive. The rumbling storm clouds threatened to release their contents onto the heads of any who dared to stay beneath their cover. Of course, by this time, all the children had been called in, all the curtains pulled closed, and, as always, all doors securely locked. There was a juvenile delinquent roaming the streets, after all. Everyone knew he was mental. At least that's what the Dursleys said. Everyone in the neighborhood pitied them for having to put up with such a problem child.

Said "problem child" sat on a swing in the park at the end of Privet Drive. He knew he seemed oblivious to everything happening around him, even the constant crashing of thunder, but he could practically _feel_ the eyes on him. The Order always had at least one person watching him at all times after the incident at the Ministry of Magic, even though, according to Dumbledore, the blood wards were impossible to break. If you were to ask Harry, he'd say that theory was a load of crap. Harry had long ago read up on the blood wards Dumbledore had briefly mentioned to him in his second year.

The Blood wards that Dumbledore proclaimed to exist largely depended on at least a small amount of kinship between the individual, or individuals, needing protection and the individual providing protection. Otherwise, they would break quite easily.

Anyone could tell there was no love to be lost between Harry and the Dursleys, and Petunia barely acknowledged Lily Potter as her sister, let alone Harry as the woman's son. To them, he was nothing more than a slave they could use as they wished. No relation of theirs. He would never call this place home.

Taking these factors into account, Harry gathered that there had never been blood wards protecting him or 4 Privet Drive.

Frankly, Harry was surprised he wasn't dead yet, although he guessed Dumbledore had gotten Snape to feed Voldemort enough information for the Dark Lord to think he couldn't get past the wards, so the man hadn't tried. He knew Dumbledore had set up an unplottable charm around the Dursley's house, so maybe (a very large maybe) Voldemort couldn't even find it. Harry sighed as he got up. It was no use thinking about something he couldn't do a thing about.

Harry rubbed his right side. He knew he had at least one bruised rib. He was pretty sure his left wrist, which he was cradling at the junction between his leg and hip, and three fingers of the same hand, were sprained. He didn't even want to know what he looked like at the moment, but he'd stalled long enough while sitting on the swing. He knew he'd have to wash his injuries before they got infected. He walked smoothly, despite his injuries, to the bathrooms that were set up not far from the swing-set, ignoring the eyes that followed his movements.

Once in the men's bathroom, and after making sure it was locked, Harry methodically stripped from his shirt and pants, leaving him in only his boxers to survey and catalogue the numerous bruises and cuts. There were so many that he could barely see the normally pale white skin of his torso below them. There were two deep criss-crossed cuts forming an X across his chest from shoulder to hip. At his waist, there were the barely healed scars that formed the word 'freak'. Putting his hand behind him to feel along his back, Harry could feel multiple long raised, ropy scars along with a few new ones. He was rather happy he couldn't turn his neck far enough around to see his back.

Leaning over, he reached under the bag of the garbage can that sat next to the sink and pulled from it a familiar potions med-kit. He'd seen many before, most commonly in the infirmary, as Madame Pomfrey usually pulled one out the moment he walked in, however, this one was his own. He'd stocked it himself before he'd left Hogwarts.

He'd had a good laugh in imagining what face Snape would have made if he'd known the potions Harry had been making successfully since his second year; Veritaserum (just in case), Bruise-healing paste, Murtlap essence, Boil-cure potion, Pepperup potion, even the Draught of Living Death (the one that Snape asked him about in his very first class with the man) and the Draught of Peace. He'd yet to use either of the last two, thankfully, as he had no desire to either be lulled into a deep sleep nor had he had any anxiety so great that a potion had been needed to soothe it.

He pulled out a few of these now: Wound-cleaning potion, Bruise-healing paste, Skele-gro, and Blood-replenishing potion. He hadn't thought he would need the Skele-grow this year, but with the threat of Sirius' wrath gone… needless to say the Dursley's had it out for him. The only reason he was here right now was because his Aunt and Uncle's stupid pig of a son had decided to play Harry Hunt today and Harry had managed to slip away. He probably wouldn't be allowed back in the house tonight, which meant he'd get another beating for not making dinner. He was rather amazed that the thought that he might poison them hadn't occurred to them. He'd been sorely tempted to many times before.

After he downed the Skele-gro, he sighed again, louder this time, before beginning to apply the potions and pastes. He couldn't heal all of the cuts and bruises or he'd get another beating that covered all these injuries and more; Vernon couldn't stand it when his punishments didn't show any lasting effect. He left all the cuts, but cleaned and closed them, making them scar. He didn't touch the bruises, but made sure there wasn't any lasting injury. He sighed as he felt the Skele-gro begin to take effect. Vernon didn't know that his wrist had been sprained, or that the fingers had been either, as he hadn't reacted during the beating; a great benefit from his high pain tolerance. He winced as the muscles reattached to the bone. It was a part of the potion; it didn't only restore bone, but fixed the muscles and ligaments that went with it.

Last of all, Harry downed the Blood-replenishing potion. If he knew the Dursleys – and indeed he did – he would need the extra blood in his system.

**xXx**

A month into the summer vacation, he lay on the moth-eaten, spider-ridden, threadbare mattress in his cupboard. He was fifteen, and his birthday was in minutes, but there was still plenty of room in the tiny compartment. He stretched his legs stiffly testing to make sure they weren't broken anywhere. Following that, he checked his arms, then his fingers. They all worked. But the pain was still there.

Just moments ago, his fat whale of an uncle had dumped him in here, wanting to rid himself of the sight of the broken boy he had just beaten bloody.

Moving his arm as little as he could, Harry drew a finger in a practiced move in the darkness in the dust that covered the wall in a thin blanket. He'd done this every year after all. The circle. The little lines; sixteen, this time. He started at the sound of a mechanical beeping, then, as he recognized the sound, he moved to press the little button on the side of his digital watch that would turn the beeping off. His voice was raspy as he whispered.

"Happy Birthday, Harry." He blew out his imaginary candles.

_I wish…_


	2. Chapter 2

**2**

_Harry,_

_ My dear boy, I regret to inform you that you will not be leaving your relatives home early this summer as you requested before school ended. Voldemort is on the move and we cannot risk him coming after you as you travel to the Order headquarters. Your friends have asked that I tell you hello from them and that they are sorry they cannot send you their usual correspondence. Your location cannot be compromised. _

_When school starts come September 1__st__, your books, potions ingredients, and other equipment needed for your classes will be bought and taken to the school. A guard will pick you up at ten that morning and take you to Platform 9 ¾ for the train. May the rest of your summer go well, and enjoy your time with your relatives._

_-Professor Dumbledore_

CRACK!

That was the sound of Harry's already waning trust in Dumbledore, breaking.

**xXx**

Harry stood waiting outside the door to 4 Privet Drive. His old shaggy trunk lay on its side beside him while Hedwig's empty cage was in his hand. It was 9:55 am, five minutes until his scheduled meeting with the aurors. He was sorely tempted to catch a taxi to the station, as he still had enough money left over from what he'd kept out of his vault last year to get one, but he knew it would only make him seem suspicious. Suddenly, he heard hissing from beneath one of Petunia Dursley's Hydrangeas, jerking him out of his thoughts.

_**May I come with you?**_ A hissing voice asked.

Harry turned towards the voice. He saw a white bodied snake that was about as big around as his thumb and as long as one of his arms. He studied it, and then hissed back at it.

_**Are you sure? You know it will be dangerous for you to come into the school.**_

_**Not as dangerous as it will be for you. Besides, I am one of Nagini's hatchlings. **_The snake brought itself up proudly. _**I will protect my master.**_

To say Harry had been surprised when the little white snake had shown up in one of Petunia's garden beds one day when he was ordered to pull weeds was an understatement. That she was one of Nagini's hatchlings, Voldemort's very own familiar, didn't help his shock either; at first he'd thought that Voldemort had sent her to spy on him and/or kill him. But, as it were, it seemed that she'd gone with her mother and Voldemort on a raid and had gotten separated from them. Imagine her own surprise when she found another speaker! To add yet another shock, she'd adopted Harry as her new master immediately and become his familiar. Harry had had no choice in the matter.

_**Alright. But you will have to stay hidden.**_

He held out his hand and Ami slithered up his sleeve. It was an odd sensation, and he hadn't quite gotten used to it, but her cold body against his skin felt good as it touched his bruises and cuts lightly. Had he mentioned that she could relieve his pain for short periods of time? Well, she could, although it tired her out and she was in a grumpy mood until she went hunting again, but then again, she was still a baby, only months old. It was only natural she didn't have the strength to hold onto her inherent magic for long periods of time.

He sighed as Ami settled in a loop around his neck. He still wasn't completely comfortable with her little resting spot, as he'd had quite a few close calls with being choked to death. He knew Ami wouldn't hurt him, but his body's instincts had been taught otherwise. He pulled the overstretched neck of one of Dudley's hand-me-down turtlenecks up to his chin, not because of the brisk morning but because he had just heard twin 'Pops' signaling the arrival of two Aurors. What they would do if they found a snake hanging comfortably around Harry Potter's neck, he didn't know, but he had no desire to find out.

He greeted the two quickly. One wore the normal wizarding attire; a long black robe over what Harry supposed might be his auror uniform. He didn't recognize the tall, blue-eyed man, but he did recognize the woman beside him. The bubblegum pink hair helped.

"Tonks!" He said happily, truly glad to see her. She was one of the few people on the light side he trusted. She hugged him tightly and he struggled to hold in the gasp of pain that rose in his throat. He felt Ami use some of her magic to try to relieve some of it, but it would have been impossible for her to take it all away.

"Harry! It's great to see you!" She pulled back and examined him, squinting as if trying to pick something from his expression, which he tried to make seem clueless and happy at being taken to his next year of Hogwarts. When she gleaned nothing from him, she nodded and cast a floating charm on his trunk. She nodded at the other man and soon another set of 'Pops' were heard as they apparated from Little Whinging.

**xXx**

Since it was still another hour before the Hogwarts Express was to leave, Tonks dismissed the other Auror (whom Tonks had never introduced, nor had Harry cared enough to ask), as she was apparently his superior, and they went and sat at a small café in the train station to wait. Since it was on Platform 9 ¾, they didn't have to worry about any muggles paying them undue attention. They talked for a bit, with Tonks filling him in on the workings of the Order, something he was sure Dumbledore would have been against had he been there to bring up any complaint.

As it were, another lie he had caught the scheming old man in, Voldemort's followers had not been active at all. There had been no raids, no abductions, no anything. The Order was getting anxious, though. The Dark Lord was surely planning something and Dumbledore was nowhere to be found. He'd only left instructions for some aurors to pick Harry up from his home.

Tonks herself was surprised that the old headmaster had made Harry stay with his relatives when he would have been perfectly safe at, and on the way to, Grimmauld Place. She'd said as much and Harry had answered that it didn't matter now that he was away from it. He'd tried to keep the fury out of his voice, but didn't quite manage it. Tonks gave him a worried look before letting it go. After that, they'd only spoken of day-to-day things like quidditch and pureblood gossip; though Tonks admitted that she wasn't "knowledgeable" about the more juicy stuff in the more _popular_ circles, which had made Harry laugh for the first time in her presence. She'd beamed at him and they'd talked until it was time for him to leave on the train.

By the time he'd boarded the train with his now shrunken trunk in his pocket, courtesy of Tonks, most of the compartments were already filled. As he walked along the hallway and peeked inside each one to check where Ron and Hermione were sitting, he began unconsciously rubbing at his ribs.

He'd run out of potions two weeks before and had been made to suffer through more and more cruel beatings from his uncle and cousin. He was sure that one rib was broken; there were maybe three others that were bruised. He knew his ankle was at least sprained, and his left wrist was actually broken this time. What was worse, Vernon had presented him with an ample length of thin, heavy chain the night before…He had more than one open wound along his back and a few on his chest.

The ones on his chest were thinner and had only bled for a few moments after Tonks had reopened them when she'd hugged him. He didn't blame her, as she hadn't known he was injured (which she still didn't know), but it had still hurt. He could feel a line of blood creeping slowly down his back, though.

_**Are you alright, Master? **_Ami hissed quietly, knowing no one could know she was there.

_**This is nothing. I'm used to worse. As long as no one touches my back. I wouldn't be able to hide it then.**_ He hissed back just as quietly in Parseltongue.

_**I am sorry that you had to learn to hide such things.**_ Ami said sorrowfully, noting that Harry was walking just as smoothly as an uninjured man would, if not more so, and that, as far as she could tell, not one part of his expression revealed any amount of pain.

_**So am I.**_ Harry answered. Harry grimaced at the sudden movement of the train and leaned against the wall of one of the compartments. Apparently, they'd just left the station. Ami, with nothing left to say, settled back into her sleep. Harry regained his balance and stepped forward again. He made his way to the very back of the train, checking each compartment as he went, not seeing his friends in any of them. He stepped through the door that separated the student-allowed part of the train with the off-limits baggage car. The Golden Trio (not a name of their own choosing) had stayed back there a few times during the trips to and from Hogwarts to avoid unwanted attention. After all, what were rules when there were no adults on the train to enforce them? Harry froze mid-step as he surveyed the room.

_So much for that theory._ Thought Harry, his brain rushing to figure out how to get out of the room without being noticed, but it was too late, the occupants had already seen him.

Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy stood in the middle of the Baggage car, talking with their heads right next to each other. Their heads had swiveled around the moment Harry had entered the area. Snape adopted one of his more forbidding glares after realizing the identity of the intruder. Draco just stared wide-eyed like a deer caught in the head-lights of a car.

"Potter!" Snape spat, breaking the silence of the moment. "Get out before I start handing out pre-school punishments! This area is off limits to students!"

Harry, who had been planning on moving out of the car as quickly as possible, heard the words as a challenge; in his already sore mood, he turned back to the man. "Is that so, Professor? Well then, you'd have to hand them out to Malfoy over there, too, as he's a student as well!" He knew it was a bad thing to say (not to mention, a bad person to say it to), but his pride wouldn't let him walk away from Snape without a confrontation. If he hadn't known better, he would have said that Snape's sneer grew. But that would have been physically impossible.

Snape quickly approached him, towering and looking like he was out for blood. Harry didn't even flinch, which seemed to make the Potions Master even more furious. Harry wondered for a moment if his and Snape's 'disagreement' had been so important as to get this mad over, but then he remembered that Snape didn't need a reason to get mad at _him._ He was a _Potter_, a _spoilt little brat_. That was all the reason he needed. But, then again, at least Snape showed Harry what he truly thought about him without abandon. Almost everyone else lied.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor for disrespect to a teacher." He snapped.

"You can't do that! School's not even started yet!" Harry argued, stepping forward. He suddenly felt a wave of lightheadedness wash over him. He back-stepped and leaned back against the wall of the car. Behind Snape, he saw Draco give him a puzzled once-over. Harry figured he was wondering at the state of his clothes. He _was_ still wearing Dudley's hand-me-downs. Malfoy had only ever seen him after he had his robes on.

"I assure you I can, Mr. Potter. Now get out!" The man said, not having noticed his state through his ire, getting red in the face.

"I-" The train jolted forward. As he suddenly lost his balance, Harry grabbed out at the door behind him with his left hand, trying to steady himself, somehow forgetting his wrist was broken. He cried out in pain as it made contact with the unyielding wall and crumpled to the floor as his ankle finally gave out on him. Snape, out of reflex, tried to catch him as he fell, but, once his hand made contact with his back, Harry's vision blacked out at the pain. He didn't scream; he'd been taught not to when receiving a beating, as the neighbors might hear otherwise. But he nearly bit through his lip at the sudden shock of the pain. The metallic, bitter taste of blood filled his mouth. He jerked away from the Potions Professors hands to fall on the floor on his chest.

"Potter? What is wrong?" Snape asked, his voice suddenly urgent. Probably just his teacher instincts kicking in. He tried to touch Harry's hand, the one with the broken wrist, but stopped at a hissing sound. Harry could see, though his half-opened eyes, that Ami had slithered over him in a protective gesture, shielding him from a perceived threat.

_**Ami…**_ He hissed out _**…Don't…I may not like him… but-I need help…I think I've…lost too much blood.**_

_**You are sure…? **_She hissed back warily. He nodded. She retreated. Not a second later, Snape's face entered his vision. He had a question in his eyes.

"D-don't touch m'back…"Harry muttered. "I…need a blood-replenishing potion. Then I should be fine."

"Potter, don't be a bloody idiot!" Malfoy could be heard saying. "You are _not _fine! And why do you have a bloody snake around your neck? I bloody hate snakes!"

"Draco. Calm down. Help me turn him over onto his back!"

Harry heard a shuffling of feet, then his head jerked up as he realized what Snape had just said. "Not my back!" He said, his voice cracking.

A second later, as Snape spoke, the man's voice held a tone of irritation. Hands reached to pull up his shirt. Harry tried to pull away, but he couldn't move. "And why, may I ask-" The scars and cuts met the open air, and Harry hissed at the sensation. He heard a loud curse and suddenly wondered why the two were even bothering with him.

"Sev! Put him out! It's no wonder he just collapsed." Malfoy said urgently. With a muttered spell later, Harry Potter was stunned unconscious while Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy saved his life, with a watchful Ami looking out for him, of course.


	3. Chapter 3

**3**

Harry woke grudgingly from his dreamless sleep. For the first time since he could remember, he felt safe and comfortable where he was. Sure, in the Gryffindor dorms he'd woken without a crick in his neck in a nice, soft, warm bed, but this was different. He wasn't tense. He didn't feel wary of where he was at all. It was…nice. But surely this wasn't real. He didn't feel safe anywhere, well, besides that one place. At this thought he tore himself abruptly out of his dazed, half-awake state and opened his eyes to survey his surroundings.

He remembered what happened on the train, and he'd expected to wake up somewhere different, but what he saw surprised him. He figured he'd been taken to Hogwarts, as that was where they'd been heading to begin with when he'd been put to sleep in the presence of Snape and Malfoy (something he wasn't sure he was altogether comfortable with), but he didn't recognize the room he was in. It was odd, seeing as he knew most of the castle from memory. The only places he hadn't explored, as far as he knew, were the much lower levels of the dungeons, the common houses of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, and the teachers' respective private areas.

Seeing as he had likely been taken by Snape to somewhere he could be treated, it had to be one of three places; the infirmary, the Slytherin common room, or Snape's private rooms. He would have recognized the first two on the list, and, as he didn't, there was only one place left. However, why Snape would let a Potter intrude on his personal space was beyond his comprehension.

He was in the dungeons. That he knew. There were no windows and, if Harry moved the covers of the bed he was laying in off of himself, he could feel the lower temperatures that the dungeons exuded. There was no furniture in the room besides the bed he was in and a bedside table that held a small lamp, although there was a brightly burning fire place off to his right. The walls of the room were solid, smooth stone which was only broken by two doors on opposite sides of the room. There were no decorations besides a suit of armor, a rather large display sword and a moving portrait of Salazar Slytherin, a familiar man with a long grey beard and pale grey eyes, who was looking at him worriedly.

"Hey Sal." Harry said hoarsely.

"What happened, little Snake?" Salazar asked him, seeming to know already, but just wanting to confirm his suspicions.

"The usual. But it was worse this time. I ran out of potions. I tried, but I couldn't last until I got to Hogwarts. I was with Snape and Malfoy at the time."

The man nodded, the worried look still in his eyes. "I thought as much. I was in my study when Severus brought you here. You were in quite a sorry state."

Harry sat up carefully, noting that the pain in his back was gone and that his bones had all been mended. "Why did they help me?" He asked quietly, the question still fresh on his mind. He didn't expect an answer, but he got one anyway.

"I believe that you broke their vision of you." Harry glanced at Salazar questioningly. The Slytherin founder shrugged slightly.

"Severus has always said, when he spoke of you to me, that you were a "spoiled little arrogant brat who thought too much of himself to take the time to read a book"; he words, not mine." Harry smiled slightly and nodded, gesturing for him to continue. "You showed him that he was seriously mistaken- by stupidly hiding your injuries and trying to act as if everything were normal- and his Slytherin side has brought him curiosity about you."

Harry raised an eyebrow, zeroing in on one part of Salazar's words. "Are you saying that I am stupid because I was hiding the fact that I am abused?"

"More or less, yes." Harry growled, although the effect of it was ruined when he jumped at the sound of hissing coming from beside him.

_**Ami… What have I told you about sneaking up on me? **_He whined to his familiar. Ami slithered into his lap as he ran a hand along the smooth scales of her back.

_**It's not my fault you were not paying attention.**_ She responded primly. Then she turned her crystal blues eyes on him, fixing him with a hard stare. _**Are you alright? That bat-like wizard left a while ago. He was rather smart to tell me everything he was doing before he did it. He told me you had many injuries.**_

Harry snorted at her description of Snape. Although he preferred to call him a greasy git most of the time, 'bat-like' suited him as well. He supposed he'd have to stop calling him names now, though. The man deserved at least that for helping him.

_**I'm fine now, Ami. I feel better than ever, actually. No pain at all.**_

_**Who is this, Harry? I noticed her watching over you as Severus healed you, but she never introduced herself.**_Salazar made himself known again. He didn't ever like to be ignored, Harry had noticed.

_**Ah! That's right! Ami, this is Salazar Slytherin, the person I told you about who's been helping me while I'm at school. Sal, this is Ami, my familiar!**_

Salazar turned piercing eyes on Ami, which she met just as steadily. After a minute of quiet study, Salazar nodded. _**Well met, little one.**_

_**Well met, Snake Father.**_ She returned.

_**Snake Father?**_ Harry questioned. The term was unfamiliar.

Salazar was about to answer him, when Harry heard a loud cough, undoubtedly to gain their attentions. His head jerked around quickly to the sight of his Potions professor standing in the doorway, eyes on Ami and tray of food in hand.

Snape cleared his throat and cautiously moved his gaze from Salazar to Harry who had a small smirk playing at his lips, seeing the wariness of his familiar in the man's eyes.

"You missed the Opening Feast, Mr. Potter. Classes start today, but I have informed the headmaster, and he returned my letter, agreeing to allow you to miss your classes until you are well." Harry opened his mouth to reply, but Snape interrupted him. "You are _not_ well, Mr. Potter. I should know, seeing as I treated all of your injuries myself. You will not be allowed out of bed until later tonight, and you will not be attending classes until tomorrow afternoon. I don't know what you were thinking, hiding those types of injuries, and so many, but you-"

"Professor," Harry interrupted. "Thank you for helping me, but isn't any business of yours-"

Snape heard where Harry was trying to go with his words, and adopted a dark expression. He was preparing to say something again when Harry's words were cut off by an ominous hissing. Both of them immediately turned to Salazar, who was glaring at Harry intensely. Harry inwardly groaned, seeing the first signs of a lecture.

_**You will **_**not**_** do this. You need every bit of help you can get and you will not push a possible ally away only because you wish to hide yourself. Tell him. He can and will help you. I know it, and you know it. Besides, he already suspects what has happened. Remember what I told you? He is used to dealing with this from his own house. He knows the signs, and you display then clearly. Do you think he is stupid?**_

Harry was suddenly glad that Salazar tended to give lectures in Parseltongue. He most certainly didn't want Snape to hear this and Sal could go on and on. The only problem was that the man was always right. He decided to interrupt before the lecture _really _got started.

_**Okay, Sal. I'll tell him.**_

The Slytherin founder gave him a black look that said 'you better' and Harry turned back to Snape, who was looking back and forth between the two, irritated at being left out of the conversation so easily. His gaze settled on Harry once he realized the short interruption was over. Harry took a deep breath and decided to be blunt.

"The injuries that you saw were all caused by my relatives. If I had lasted until we had gotten to the school, I could have retrieved one of my med-kits and treated them without anyone knowing. However, because of…Sirius' death, my treatment was much worse this year as his threat to them was annulled and, as they usually lighten up in the days leading up to my departure for Hogwarts, for them to _worsen_ their…_punishments_… is unusual and I was unprepared for it."

Harry had been looking into the potions master's eyes while he spoke, so he saw the shock that likely came from the fact that the he really had been abused and at how Harry had told him so easily. The realization that came close behind from hearing the difference in Harry's tone, the intelligence and confidence that he suddenly spoke with. Next was disgust at the knowledge that muggles had abused him in such a manner. But to the Harry's confusion, he saw anger quickly growing on the face of his professor.

The man spoke in a dangerously quiet voice.

"Why did you not tell anyone about this before? We have allowed students to stay over the summer before."

This knowledge hit a chord inside Harry, and the last little part of him that told him Dumbledore meant well crumbled into dust. He had never known of this aspect of Hogwarts' policy. Looking to Salazar, it seemed that he hadn't either, if the smoldering anger in his eyes was any indication.

"I _did_ tell someone. I told my Head of House, the Headmaster,"-he spat the title out- "They did nothing. Dumbledore told me to my face that I was a liar in first year when I asked if I could stay and told him why. I asked every year after that, too! Did he do anything? _No!_ He sent me back to my torturers with the excuse that I was protected by _nonexistent_ wards!"

Harry stopped, breathing heavily and forcing himself to calm down. The outburst had drained him, and Snape looked shocked at the information, either that or by the boy's now obvious hatred towards the headmaster. When he next spoke, it was quietly and slightly more calm.

"I'm not going back. If I go back, I will kill them." He stated certainly, looking down at his lap.

"I won't let him make you go back." Harry looked back up in surprise. Snape looked like he was about to be physically sick. "I…am sorry." Harry was well and truly stunned now. Imagine, one of the people who hated him the most, apologizing! "I could not see you for your father. I thought you were an arrogant, spoiled little child who got everything handed to him on a silver platter. I was wrong." Snape seemed unable to meet his eyes.

Harry surprised him. "That's fine." The Professors head shot up. "I went out of my way to hide it from everyone, other than the ones I thought might have done something about the situation. It's not your fault you couldn't see it. Even Mcgonagall didn't, and she's almost as observant as you. She thought I was lying, too. She knew the Dursleys weren't good people, but she was adamant that they wouldn't take it this far." He gestured at the scars on his body.

For a good two minutes of silence, he watched Snape carefully, as if judging him, and then turned to Salazar's portrait.

_**Sal, can I show him?**_

_**Only after you are allowed out of bed.**_

_**Alright.**_

"Thank you, Professor."

Snape who had been studying him as well, acknowledged his words with a nod and then moved next to Harry's bed. He wandlessly conjured a chair and set the tray of food on the bed between them. By the meal, Harry assumed it was breakfast time, and he dug into the eggs and toast Snape put in front of him, although he did so carefully so as to not cause himself not to throw up. Snape was kind enough to give him a potion to settle his stomach, so he had a good appetite.

Snape later retrieved some paperwork and brought it into the room, every so often commenting on subjects in Harry's and Salazar's conversation (which they made sure to leave in common English, so he could understand them) and passing the time. He had also requested the day off to take care of Harry so he hadn't been missed in any classes. All three of them, and sometimes Ami (who, Harry had found out not long after meeting her, could understand English, although she could obviously not speak it), held conversations throughout the day about various subjects, although they tread carefully among the topic of Harry's treatment over the years.

The professor was surprisingly interested to learn that Harry had not only been hiding his injuries, but also much of his intelligence. It turned out that, in an attempt to escape extra notice from the public (which he got enough of by just being the 'Boy-Who-Lived'), Harry had purposefully kept his grades at least average in all classes but Defense Against the Dark Arts, which he would be expected to succeed in. The boy shared with him that he actually was more knowledgeable in potions, transfigurations, and charms than anyone really knew, although DADA was actually his favorite of all his classes.

When Snape had suggested that he start raising his grades in the coming year to allow him more opportunities after graduation, Harry shared his plans of dropping Divination and Care of magical creatures and picking up Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. He also announced that he had been able to get into Snape's advanced Potions class.

Snape then explained to him that the classes for advanced potions were actually much shorter than regular potions classes were, and that they actually met less often as well. He was surprised when Harry looked slightly put off by the fact. When asked, Harry said that he had wanted to show off. Snape had surprised Harry by chuckling, and then, seeming to surprise even himself as the words came out of his mouth, he invited Harry to come to his Potions lab once or twice and brew a potion with him.

Harry's face had grown so genuinely happy at that, Snape had actually broken out into a smile, which had Harry staring wide-eyed at him. It seemed the two of them had become, although neither would have admitted it, tentative friends. It was a surprising turn-around from their hate-hate relationship of before.

Later the same afternoon, Harry asked about Malfoy, or Draco, as he'd decided to start calling him in his mind, and if he had figured out about his abuse. Snape had answered in the affirmative. It turned out that Draco also had experience in dealing with abuse, although not abused himself, and had recognized the way the injuries had been layered, older yellowed bruises over newer purple ones, fresh and bleeding cuts over ones barely healed, and, of course, the fist shaped bruises that appeared all over his body. Both Slytherins had seen the signs. Snape assured Harry that Draco had had the exact same reaction as he had, and that he had been furious at himself for treating Harry as he had all these years.

After hearing this, Harry had been silent for a while. He'd spoken to Salazar in Parseltongue for a moment and then, switching back to a language Snape could understand, asked him to send for Draco to meet them here after dinner. Snape, confused and slightly suspicious, but thinking that Harry probably meant to talk to Draco about what had happened, agreed to call for him.

**xXx**

Harry felt as if he'd just gone back to sleep when he woke to the sound of voices outside one of the two doors that he knew now led into the hallway. He quickly recognized them as the arrogant, aristocratic tones of Draco Malfoy and the smooth, drawling voice of Severus Snape. Ami, who'd apparently woken the same time he had, slithered from her favorite sleeping spot(atop his head) so he could sit up, and tilted her head towards the door in a questioning manner. The voices got louder as they moved towards the room he was in. They finally stopped outside his door.

"Why would he want to see me? I was so cruel to him, pushing him around, taunting him. He must hate me!" Draco whined.

"Draco, you really _must_ stop acting like a child one of these days. Think about his reaction to myself. He was most vocal in his feelings towards me in these previous years. I am sure you were a pleasant side trip compared to the hell I have made his school life and he was quick to accept my apologies. He needs a friend at the moment, I think. The rest of the…_Golden Trio_... does not know about his home life, or they would have done something by now. You do. You can be there for him..."

Harry smirked at the words Snape handed out to Draco. They were all true, admittedly, but he was surprised at the long speech Snape had given. Even earlier in the day, when he'd been sitting with him, he hadn't spoken nearly that much in one go. His musings were cut off as the door to his room was opened after a quick, light knock.

He grinned at the chagrined look on the blond boy's face. Snape walked to the chair he'd conjured earlier and sat while waving his wand to create another for Draco. Harry momentarily thought about the situation he was in. He was in the same room as two of the people he had loathed not too long ago, soon to show them one of his most treasured secrets.

These two had made their way onto the short list of people he trusted, which was not easy. Regardless of the fact that they'd basically saved his life, he was still wondering how that had happened. He'd realized, not long after eating earlier that day, that he'd almost always felt safe around the both of them, regardless of the fact that they had never been all that nice towards him. Maybe that was why?

"Potter…" Draco started, looking about the same as Snape had when he'd apologized. "I'm…I…apologize. I am sorry for the way I have treated you in the past." The blond took a deep breath. He stepped up close to the bed and stuck out a hand. "Can we…start over?"

Harry smirked and took his hand easily. "My name is Harry. Harry Potter. What's yours?"

The edges of Draco's lips pulled up into a pseudo-smile. He opened his mouth and introduced himself haughtily. "I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy… You're really _the_ Harry Potter?" He faked his shock. Harry nodded, amused. At the irony of the situation, though, Harry and Draco couldn't hold out much longer, and both broke into bubbling laughter after a moment of seriousness. Then, Ami made her appearance. She had been lying on the other side of Harry, but, having sadly never seen or heard him _really_ laugh before, this was an event she wanted to see.

Draco stopped laughing the moment he caught sight of her. He quickly stepped back and away from the beautiful snake, hiding behind Snape. Harry settled himself more slowly, his humor in the situation reinforced by the apparent dislike of snakes from Draco.

"Don't worry, Draco. She won't hurt you. She's my familiar. Her name is Ami." He introduced them to one another. Ami drew up on her belly so that she was about a foot off the bed.

_**Ami, the blond one is Draco. Please don't scare him. And the bat-like one's name is Snape.**_

Ami's and Draco's eyes met and Ami gave him a graceful nod of acknowledgement. He gave a tentative nod back to her and slowly made his way back to the bed, sitting down in the chair Snape had provided for him. Snape, who had been watching the going ons from the sidelines along with Salazar, shook his head in disbelief. Draco had been so worried, but now him and Potter-Harry, he reminded himself- were acting like friends.

After a moment of companionable silence, Harry shifted and spoke.

"Don't get too comfortable." He warned them. "I have something to show the two of you. Am I allowed to leave the bed now, sir?" He directed at Snape.

"Yes."

"Good. Is dinner over, then?"

"Yeah, everyone left a while ago. Why?" Draco asked.

"Wait and see." Harry swung his legs over the edge of the bed and picked Ami up to lay her around his neck. Snape had left a change of clothes for him before he'd left to seek out Draco, so he'd changed from the pajamas he'd woken up in and into his normal school uniform shortly after and dozed on the bed as he waited. Harry could only guess that the Potions Master had found Harry's shrunken trunk and had pulled the clothes from it.

He tentatively checked his balance and, once he found he could stand easily walked to the door smoothly. He glanced back at the two men that were still sitting, surprised at Harry's energy. Even though he was healed, they'd still expected him to feel a little weak. He grinned.

"Well, are you coming?"

Harry pretended that he did not see his ex-enemies clumsily hurrying to his side. But, as they left, he could hear Salazar laughing at them in the snake's tongue.


	4. Chapter 4

**4**

Harry led them to the second floor, only taking four staircases to get there, which frankly amazed Snape, as it usually took him at least six to get to this particular floor from the dungeons. It made him wonder just how much Harry wandered the castle in the late hours of the night, and how many times Harry had let himself be caught by him. Draco was surprisingly quiet, looking around as if he'd never seen these corridors in any of his five years at Hogwarts.

"You might be familiar with the back entrance." Harry said suddenly, as if he'd been talking to them about where he'd been taking them the entire time.

"What?" Draco asked.

"You've both heard of the Chamber of Secrets, right?" They both nodded. "Well, The Chamber of Secrets is only a passageway. It would take longer, but we could get to where I'm taking you through there."

"And how do you get in _there_?" Draco asked. Snape was grateful, as he didn't want to ask what seemed like a stupid question.

"The word hasn't gotten out yet? There was such a big fuss over it in our second year, after all. I thought for sure everyone'd know by now. You can get into the Chamber by going through the entrance in the fourth floor girls' room. But that way is always dirty, plus, it hurts when you drop into it, since there are no stairs to walk down the passageway. The way I'm taking you- Actually, we're here. Let me show you." Harry stopped in front of a portrait of Salazar Slytherin, which Snape didn't remember ever seeing in this particular corridor, and whispered something. His ears, well-versed in listening to quiet sounds, caught that it was in Parseltongue.

_**Open up, please, Sal.**_

_** You don't really need to ask, you know.**_

_** Sal…**_

_**Oh, all right.**_

Salazar's portrait and the wall behind it suddenly sunk back into the wall, forming a fairly large entryway. Snape could see stairs leading downwards until they were consumed by a complete darkness.

_**Lights please, Sal.**_

A dim glow brightened the stairwell as the three of them moved into the passageway. The wall sealed back up as they walked, startling Draco, who paled at seeing they couldn't get back out. "Potter…" Harry glanced back at him.

"Don't worry; it'll open up again when you get close to it. And, call me Harry." He added the last as if it was an afterthought.

After two or three minutes of walking, they reached another entryway, this one far more grand than the first. There was a huge set of double doors that could rival the Great Hall's. They were gilded with long silver and green snakes and the handles of the doors resembled small basilisks. This time, when Harry spoke, Snape recognized the word 'open' as the snakes suddenly started moving and peering at him and Draco. He also recognized his name from when the Dark Lord would say it in the snake's tongue. He guessed that Harry was telling the snakes who the two strangers were.

Then, the doors swung open smoothly, without even a creak. They walked into a ballroom with shining floors that seemed like mirrors. There were six diamond chandeliers, all connected, one in the middle and the other five at strategic points around it, forming a five pointed star. There were three doors that led off from this room. Two led off to either side of them to their right and left, then there was another that was straight across from them, which was, predictably, the door Harry led them through. Snape and Draco walked through the place wide-eyed and wonder-filled, stunned speechless at the splendor the place demonstrated, not having guessed that such an old-fashioned castle could hold it.

The second set of doors was just as beautiful as the first and looked much the same, but these doors had no handles; they opened automatically when Harry stepped up to them.

If anything, the two Slytherins behind him dropped their jaws further than they had been before. They stood for a moment, shocked into stillness, before walking slowly forward to take in the view. They stood in the largest library they'd ever seen. What they could see far surpassed the amount located in the Hogwarts library, and they could both tell that there was much more that they couldn't see. The huge bookcases angled outwards from the door, leading into a moderately sized circular sitting area.

"Sal! Where are you?"

"Who are you calling-?" Draco started but broke off when he saw the man walk from behind a bookcase. Of course it was no ordinary man.

"Salazar!" Snape swore, his eyes wide.

The man grinned. "None other."

Draco promptly fainted. Snape caught him before he hit the floor, but, as he checked the boy's eyes, he knew that Draco would be out for a while. He sighed.

"Really, Sal? Did you have to do that? You probably knew he'd faint if you just showed up out of the blue like that." Harry growled.

"Well, I didn't _know_, but-"

"No excuses!"

A strange expression formed on Salazar's face, something akin to a pout. Snape though it rather amusing, seeing a founder pout, but then he realized, that, in truth, he should be rather more shocked than he was, seeing one of _the_ founders standing in front of him, not as a portrait. Then, he remembered. He was with Harry Potter.

_Never a boring moment_, he thought to himself.

**xXx**

"May I ask what's going on, P-Harry?" He said aloud, interrupting the staring match Slytherin and Harry were having. When Harry glanced back at him, he seemed to remember that the two of them weren't alone in the room, although how he could have forgotten eluded Snape.

They were now settled on couches in the sitting area, Draco with his head in Snape's lap, lying out on the couch while Snape sat at one end of it and propped his chin in his hand which was in turn propped on the arm of the couch. Harry and Salazar sat on the other couch.

"Well, you already know who this is-"

"Obviously." Snape snapped irritably, but Harry went on as if he hadn't been interrupted.

"But, what you cannot see is that he isn't really alive."

An elegant eyebrow rose ever so slowly, pushing the boy to elaborate.

"Sal…" The man took over the explanation and Harry sighed as the professor's scowl was taken off of him. They may not have been enemies, but Snape still wasn't the kindest of men to deal with when he was irritated. He didn't like being surprised.

"Before I died, I came back to Hogwarts and put a spell around my quarters, the… _Chamber of Secrets_ as I believe it's called now. I can step out from my portrait into a more solid state of being here, but nowhere else. To guard my possessions, I set the Basilisk to keep watch over the more well known entrance to my chambers. Until Tom found this place, no one else had set foot in it, nor did I have any desire for anyone to do so. But Tom and Harry here needed a place to go, away from a certain old man's meddling, so I provided for them a safe haven."

"And what a haven it's been." Grinned Harry. "I got lectured here more than anywhere else and learned more here than in any of the classrooms I ever set foot into. And the house elves bring him the most deliciously made food, even better than what's served in the Great Hall!"

Snape's scowl lessened at hearing how the founder had taken care of Harry when no one else had seen his plight.

"Then I must thank you, Salazar, for taking care of this young man, when the staff, myself included, did such a poor job of it."

"It's quite alright. Harry was right in saying that you couldn't have been able to see it. He picks up on things quite quickly and one of the first things he learned from me was a Slytherin's mask. He is very skilled at it." The man glared at Harry for a moment, at which Harry just smiled innocently. "The bad thing is that he doesn't hide the expressions from his face, rather, he puts up false emotions and feelings. I can't even read him sometimes."

Snape looked impressed for all of a millisecond then his expression turned irritable again. "Annoying brat." He muttered.

"Regardless," Salazar continued. "We must speak of Harry's living arrangements from now on."

"Hey! Stop talking like I'm not here!" Harry pouted, pulling on Salazar's robe.

"Indeed we must. I was thinking that he could stay with a wizarding family until he was of age or…"

**xXx**

A groan met their ears about half an hour later. Draco stirred in his fetal position; one that he had curled into after Snape had pushed him off his lap after he had tried to snuggle with the man in his sleep. Harry had mused upon the idea that the two were a couple aloud, with the only response being a hex sent at him from Snape. But the man didn't deny it, which only, in Harry's opinion, confirmed his suspicions. The nickname Draco called the Potions master helped too.

"Sev…Where are-?" Draco shot straight up, nearly hitting Snape in the process. "I just had the weirdest dream. You were there, and Potter. He took us to meet…" Draco trailed off as he surveyed the room they were in and the amused faces of the others.

He squeaked in surprise. "So it wasn't a dream." He said, wide-eyed.

"No." Harry laughed. "It isn't, is it, _Sev_?"

"You are pushing your luck, brat."

Harry and Salazar met each other's eyes and grinned. Draco looked around at the three of them and shook his head slowly.

"I thought Slytherin would be more serious." He said randomly. That was when Harry and Salazar broke out laughing. Even Snape had a small smile playing at his lips.

They spoke of nonsensical topics for the rest of the time they were there. No one mentioned how much trust was being given for Draco and Severus to be in this room.

It was already more than evident.

**xXx**

It was his first day of classes.

Harry had left Salazar's chambers with Draco and Snape, no, Severus, long after curfew the previous night. He had then made his way to Gryffindor Tower after being given the teacher override password by Severus (with a stern warning not to make any trouble) and went to his dorm. The four other boys there were all sound asleep, Ron already snoring up a storm. It frequently amazed him how Neville, Seamus, and Dean could sleep with such noise.

His things were already at the foot of his bed, which he assumed had been done by one of the house elves, and his bed was already made, so he climbed into it quickly and fell asleep easily. The next morning he woke before any of the others, for which he was thankful; he didn't want to have to explain his tardiness quite yet. He grabbed his uniform from his trunk and went to the showers. Once finished with that, he quickly dressed and grabbed his books, making his way to the Great Hall.

Finding who he was looking for, Harry smoothly walked up to the staff table and greeted Severus, who smirked at him in return. The only other teachers there, McGonagall and Dumbledore, stared at him for a moment before that infernal twinkle entered the headmaster's eye and McGonagall asked after his business at the head table.

"I came to get my schedule, Professor, and to ask who had taken the post of DADA Professor this year. If you'll remember, I was absent from the Opening Feast and from classes yesterday."

For a moment, McGonagall looked almost affronted, but she recovered and pulled a sheet of parchment from what seemed to be thin air.

"Here is your schedule, Mr. Potter. Also, this year, the DADA Professor-"

Harry felt a prickle go up his spine and straight to his scar as she broke off her sentence and turned around stiffly.

"-ah. There he is. Professor Hostes! Here is our number one student in Defense. Harry Potter here is the one that started the DA classes last year."

Harry stared wide-eyed at the man standing before him. _It couldn't be him, why would he be here? He doesn't look anything like him- but that doesn't mean anything. I can feel him._

"Harry Potter? Why, it's a pleasure to finally meet you." The tall blue-eyed man stated as he reached them, not a whisper of recognition passing his face. The man had tanned skin and his dark hair fell below his shoulders, although it was pulled into a hair tie at the nape of his neck. As he reached out to shake Harry's hand, Harry hesitated, but, seeing as no one else seemed to recognize him, the boy took the proffered hand, even as it sent waves of pain running through his scar. He didn't let the feeling reach his face though, as he smiled through gritted teeth.

"A pleasure as well, I'm sure." Harry replied. "I apologize, but I've never heard your name before. Where did you come from?"

"That's to be expected, Mr. Potter. I'm just moving from Italy. I did live here in Britain at one point in time, but I moved away a long time ago. I've heard that quite a few DADA teachers have been having a hard time keeping a job here, so I decided to try my luck at the position."

"That's quite brave of you. Voldemort himself placed a curse on the position, I've heard." He watched the man carefully and decided that Tom was a very convincing actor. He'd even managed to flinch at hearing his own made-up name.

"You're quite brave yourself, young man. Speaking You-Know-Who's name aloud."

"No, I just think it's foolish to avoid speaking the man's name. Plus, Voldemort-" another flinch. "-isn't even the man's birth name."

They stared at each other for a long moment, unable to think of any more veiled insults to throw at each other. Professor Hostes, Voldemort, nodded to him and sat down in his seat at the table. He glanced at Snape and saw him staring at him with a raised eyebrow. He mouthed 'later' and went down to the Gryffindor table to grab a snack for breakfast and left to wander the halls and find a portrait of a certain founder.

**xXx**

"It's him, Sal." Harry said quickly.

_**I agree. I felt the presence of another speaker. I know of no other than him and the two of you. **_Ami added.

"Why is he here?"

"I don't know. He's wasting his time. Other than getting closer to me and Dumbledore, there is no benefit to sneaking into Hogwarts, not to mention, how did he get past Dumbledore?"

"Little Snake, I'm sorry to tell you this, but, while Dumbledore poses a threat to Tom, He is hardly a match for him. The only way that Dumbledore would win in a dual one-on-one is if he had a distraction, an example of which is last year at the ministry. Tom could easily hide his aura and create a background with all the contacts he has. Not to mention, if he is anything like you say, he's regained some semblance of sanity."

"Right. Otherwise, he would have killed me right off, the moment he saw me. Damn it! What's he up to?"

"I'm afraid you might have to wait and watch, Little Snake." Salazar said with a grimace.

"Yippee."

**xXx**

After a nerve-wrecking day of Charms, Transfiguration, Ancient Runes, and Arithmancy, and of successfully ignoring and avoiding any and all attempts of socialization with anyone but Draco (which raised more than a few eyebrows), Harry trudged down to the dungeons to report what he'd discovered to the Potions Master. He heard the voices before he saw them. What put him on edge was a very familiar voice. One he remembered from his very first visit to the Chamber of Secrets. A nice voice overall, sure, but the person it belonged to wasn't all that great.

"…Severus." He wondered what had been said at the beginning of the sentence.

"My lord." Snape's voice sounded somewhat shaky. It seemed he'd already discovered that the Dark Lord was prowling the halls of Hogwarts.

"No need for that, Severus. I know where your allegiances have lain in the past. It's amazing how convincing Dumbledore can be when your leader is mad, is it not?" Tom sounded calm, not angry at all. There was no promise of pain in his voice.

Harry snuck closer to the door. There was something odd about the situation. Neither Tom nor Snape would leave a door unsilenced in the midst of such a conversation. But maybe neither expected anyone to still be prowling the halls of the dungeons. Or maybe that's exactly what one of them expected. He felt a shiver run up his spine. He needed to leave. But…what about Severus? He couldn't just leave him here.

"I-I have no idea what you are talking about, Milord." Severus kept the charade, apparently hoping that Tom was just testing him and did not truly know of his position as a spy.

"No need to be so tense, Severus. And stop groveling. I've come to win back your allegiances. As you can see, I am no longer as mad as in these past years. I've no clue as of yet what happened, but I will not question such a gift as a second chance." Here Tom paused. "Or is it my third? Hmm… something to ponder on." Another pause, then he continued in a more annoyed tone. "Really, Severus, you can sit down in your own chambers! I am not trying to trick you into doing or saying something that will cause your death. I am being as truthful as I can, despite my nature."

"…My lord-"

"Call me Tom."

"…Tom. Forgive my bluntness, but if you know as much as you say, why have you not killed me yet?"

"As I've already said, I'm quite sane now. If I'd been in your situation, I would likely have done the same as you chose to do. However, I have my old goals back in mind. The same that you originally joined me for. No more pointless killing and torturing. No foolish bowing and tiptoeing around. Will you join me again?"

"…Can I have some time to…consider?"

"Of course. I will need your answer soon, though."

There was the sound of heavy cloth swishing and of shoes clicking against the ground. Harry backed away from the door as quickly as he could without making a sound. Looking around he saw there would be nowhere he could hide in time. No doors or hallways. He pulled out his wand decisively. Then the door opened.

The moment Tom locked eyes with Harry, the man pulled out his wand, but before Harry could get a syllable out, Tom had him under a silencing spell and petrified. Carefully shutting the door to Severus's chambers, Tom offered him a sly smile.

"Hello, Harry. Just the person I was looking for. What say you to having a little chat with me up in my new office?"


	5. Chapter 5

**5**

Harry was levitated onto a couch in Professor Hostes' (AKA: Tom Marvolo Riddle, Voldemort, The Dark Lord, He-who-must-not-be-named, You-know-who, The-man-with-too-many-dashes-in-his-names, etc…) office, who then proceeded to remove the charms he'd placed, leaving Harry in the not-so-comfortable situation of sitting with his mortal enemy who was at the moment preparing their tea the muggle way. Harry suddenly wished that the man had the same tendencies as most of his house did and had put a portrait of Salazar in his office, but, no such luck.

He could feel Ami's tense body coiled around his neck and pulled at her gently, coaxing her to loosen her grip. She slithered down his sleeve to wrap her body around his wrist, her head only just being covered by his sleeve. Harry toyed with his sleeve to cover the rustling cloth her movements caused and looked up to see Tom watching him in amusement.

Harry gave the man a suspicious look. Tom just smirked, apparently not having seen his snake familiar. Or at least, that's what he hoped.

"What did you want to talk about?" He deadpanned.

"I want to make a truce." Harry's eyes widened almost comically, his mouth opened and closing, gaping like a fish at the suddenness of such a topic. Finally, once his mind grasped the concept of language again, Harry spoke (more like croaked) his reply.

"Explain."

Harry's mind suddenly raced back to the conversation he'd overheard between the man and Severus. He'd said he was sane again, told Severus not to grovel, and _asked_ Severus to rejoin his cause after announcing that he'd known that the man was a spy. Something was off.

"As you most likely heard back in the hallway, I am now quite saner than I have been in many years-"

"Obviously." Tom looked annoyed at the interruption, but kept speaking.

"I wish to realign my side of the war with my original ideals. However, I wished to deal with this… relationship…" Harry snorted at the word the man had chosen. ", between the two of us, and assure you that I no longer hold any animosity towards your person or mentality."

Harry's eyes widened. He jerked as the man switched to the snake's tongue.

_**I swear that I speak the truth.**_

_**And what guarantee do I have of that?**_ Harry asked, switching to Parseltongue as well.

Tom glanced at him curiously and then realization sparked in his eyes.

_**I apologize, Harry. I had forgotten that you have not had the experience of having Parseltongue most of your life. When one speaks in the snake's tongue, one cannot lie. If you do not trust me, ask of your little familiar there.**_ Well, apparently the man _had_ noticed Ami.

_**Ami?**_

_**He says right, master.**_

Harry raised an eyebrow at Ami's use of the title as she slithered further from his sleeve. She rarely used it any more. Harry started at the sound of Tom's chuckle.

_**So that is where you disappeared to, little one. Your mother was worried sick when she couldn't find you. And, you, Harry. You truly do attract trouble.**_

_**Not my fault. **_Harry muttered. Quite a feat considering the hissing language that slid past his lips. He pouted, then scowled, realizing just how at ease he felt sitting in the room with the man who had killed his parents and attempted to do the same to him quite a few times as well. But the former wasn't quite as large a problem as it had been a few years ago, now that he knew about the prophecy. The wizarding world had been at war.

If _he_ had heard that a child would kill him, he wouldn't have spared the child either, taking his life over a stranger's any day. Not to mention, in wars, people on both sides died, regardless of the people's situations. His parents had been prepared to die for their cause. He had no right to bear a grudge. Now, about the situation where Tom had tried to kill him almost every year he'd been at Hogwarts, well, they would have to talk about that. But a truce was something to think about.

_**Alright, if Ami says so… But…What were your original ideals? You said that like they had changed over the **_**years**_**.**_

_**They did.**_

_**How?**_

_**Why so curious, suddenly? **_Tom asked, amused. He had apparently sensed the course of Harry's thoughts and he seemed to think the boy's situation funny. Who would have thought they could have a civil conversation without trying to kill one another? Now it was Harry's turn to scowl.

_**I asked first.**_

_**So you did. But I have the answer, and I'm sure you are more curious to hear it than I am to hear the answer to my question. I can wait.**_

_**No wonder no one can say your name. You're intolerable!**_

_**Still waiting.**_

_**Childish.**_

_**You started it. **_Tom said, smiling. He sat in the chair that was across from where Harry was seated and placed what was apparently Harry's cup on the coffee table between them. Harry took the proffered cup and took a long slow gulp. He needed the calming herbs that made it up. He had expected Tom to put a calming potion in it, but, surprisingly, he hadn't thought once that Tom might poison him.

First of all, Tom would just kill him if he wanted to kill him. They were in a locked room with silencing charms placed on it and Tom was a brilliant wizard. Harry would be a goner if Tom decided he wasn't worth a truce. But second, and more importantly to him, he felt safe. The only places he felt safe were the Chamber of Secrets and, while it had only been found recently, Severus's chambers. Harry had learned from a very young age to follow his instincts. And unless his instincts were telling him he was in danger, he would act as if it were otherwise.

_**I just want to know.**_

_**Why?**_

Harry growled in annoyance, but answered him. He tensed up unconsciously and his lips curled into a frown as he thought about how to word the answer.

_**My…loyalties have been recently put into question.**_

_**So Dumbledore has lost your trust.**_ It wasn't a question. Tom's face took up a thoughtful expression. _**Why?**_

Harry's face closed off. His eyes became more veiled and his eyes set into a firm line. He shook his head. _**None of your business.**_

Tom studied Harry's face for a long moment then finally nodded.

_**You asked how my ideals had changed.**_

Harry nodded. _**More of what they changed from. I already know why. Plus, how did you get,**_ He gestured at Tom,_** more sane?**_

_**I'll answer the first question first. Originally, my ideals were much less…hostile. I had no intention to kill all muggles. I only wished to make rules that forbid wizards and witches from having children with them. It's common knowledge amongst purebloods that half-bloods normally have less magic, ourselves being two of the few exceptions, and that the continued procreation between magical folk and humans is leaving us more susceptible to human diseases. However, what is not commonly known is that muggleborns can have just as much if not more magic than even purebloods. They have pure magic that comes from nature. Muggleborns can keep our population alive.**_

_**So why did that change?**_ Harry asked.

_**My ideals changed most radically in the recent sixteen or so years. Some of my more militant Death Eaters influenced my decisions while I was of a less stable mind, Quirrell having no little part in it since I shared his thoughts and memories when I possessed him, and you could say that many of my death eaters have quite vicious opinions towards muggle blood in general.**_

_**Was that the only goal of yours that changed?**_

_**No. I originally had a political say in the making of laws. I wanted to make it so that practicing Dark Magic was legal but, of course, using it against a person for anything but defense would be prohibited. Basically, I wanted to put Dark Magic back on the same playing field as Light Magic. People have a misconception now that people who practice Dark Magic are evil and the opposite for people who practice Light Magic.**_

Harry smiled bitterly. _**I know. If I hadn't met the Weasleys when I first came to the Wizarding world, I would have been sorted into Slytherin. Ron put it into my head that Dark wizards came from Slytherin and only Slytherin and that all Dark wizards were evil.**_

Tom blinked. _**That's surprising. I wouldn't have thought that the Golden Boy of Gryffindor could have been a snake.**_

_**Goes to show just how much I can surprise you.**_ Harry replied, frowning at the nickname that someone had deemed fit to bestow upon him.

_**Yes, I think I know that well enough.**_

_**True. I am the only one you haven't managed to kill yet.**_

_**You and Dumbledore. You wouldn't believe how many times he's escaped death by my hand.**_

_**Really? How many times have you tried?**_ Harry asked, curious as to the answer.

Tom scowled again. Harry thought the expression was quite endearing when the man didn't have such a snakelike face; he still wore his disguise of Professor Hostes. _**Too many to count. I started sometime around my fifth year. Random accidents, poison, even curses. He avoided them all like a lucky drunk buffoon.**_

Harry snorted at the description. It fit Dumbledore well enough. He wouldn't have put it past the man to put rum or the like in those lemon drops he always carried around. He was glad he'd never accepted the man's offer of the disgusting candy. Tom continued.

_**There was also the matter of the Minister of Magic. None of the Ministers we've had in the last hundred years have been fit for the duty. I wanted to find a proper person for the job and reorganize the ministry.**_

_**That seems reasonable enough. What stopped you?**_

_**Dumbledore. He was my political opponent. He wanted a minister that would be easy to wrap around his finger. I would imagine he was quite angered by the discovery that Lucius had the man wrapped around his bank account. Dumbledore wanted to be in the limelight. Since he defeated Grindlewald, which I like to think was just a fluke, he has had a hand in almost every important political decision since then, but refuses to take the position of Minister himself. That way, no blame will fall on him if anything goes wrong.**_

_**How did you begin to get sane again?**_ Harry asked again, seeing that the question had probably been forgotten.

Tom looked down and sighed. Harry found that he was beginning to like the openly seen emotions of the man, although he was sure Tom was only allowing him to see them for his own benefit.

_**Honestly, I have no idea. My health, sanity, and physical features have been becoming more and more like that of my youth ever since that night two years ago, and even more so since the events in the ministry last year.**_

He watched as Harry flinched at the memory.

…_**for what it's worth, I'm sorry…**_ The apology sounded sincere.

Harry nodded his head pensively and set his tea down on the table. _**What type of truce are you suggesting?**_

_**It's quite simple. I don't try to kill you; you don't try to kill me. I get you out of the way and don't have to worry about you dying as a martyr for the light side and you get me out of your life. Of course, that was what I originally came here to suggest. I had not even hoped for a schism between yourself and Dumbledore. Now I have a new proposition.**_

_**And what is that?**_

_**If you wish, you can join my side. I won't mark you. **_Tom added as Harry started to speak. _**You and I will be partners of a sort.**_

_**Why would you want me as a partner?**_

_**You're hardly weak, Harry. And there would be a few benefits for me, including the support of the 'Boy who Lived'.**_

…_**I would have conditions. **_Harry said. However, instead of it being a strong statement like he had wished, the sentence came out as more of a question.

_**Naturally. Although it would be helpful if you would name them.**_

Harry blushed. _**I was getting there!**_

Tom smirked at him, then settled back in his chair and crossed his legs. _**Do go on then.**_

_**Bloody Dark Lords and their power complexes. **_The teen muttered. He shook his head as Ami hissed a laugh at him. _**I want Severus's mark removed and for Draco not to receive one. And for a few people to be spared from attacks, just those I count as family, unless, of course, they attack you or your followers first. I want to choose what attacks, or missions, or whatever that I am sent out for. Lastly, I want to be kept in the loop. The Order made the mistake of not telling me what they were up to. It's one mistake that I think you would not want to repeat.**_

Tom thought over Harry's demands and eventually nodded. _**Those are reasonable requests.**_

_**Then we have an agreement?**_

_**We do.**_

Tom stood from his seat and Harry followed him up. They shook hands.

"I would guess that we do not need to rely on a magically binding promise as we both have stakes in this truce." Tom switched back to English.

"You would be right." Harry replied. He was quiet for a moment. "You know, Salazar has wanted to see you for quite a while…"

"You've met him?" Tom asked, surprised for once.

"I have, just at the end of second year after I fought the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets."

"I am still surprised that you managed to survive such an encounter. You didn't use Parseltongue to stop it, did you?"

"No, I didn't, though I'm sorry that I killed the poor thing. It was one of the few things that kept Sal company."

"I see. Is Sal well?"

"Yes, and I'm sure Sal will be overjoyed at the new developments. He's been pining over you, you know. How he wished you had not changed sides so drastically. I think Dumbledore told him an overdramatic rendition of your doings."

Tom nodded and studied him for a good minute.

"I recall you speaking in a much less intelligent manner in the past. What has changed?"

Harry smiled. "Nothing, Tom. Nothing at all. I've just decided to show a little more of my intelligence than I have before."

"Interesting." Tom walked out of his office with Harry on his tail. Harry noticed that they were heading directly towards Salazar's chambers. He smirked and shook his head. Tom hadn't bothered to ask him whether or not he wanted to go.

"What is? Did you really think that I escaped death all those times with simple luck? If you'll remember, I nearly single-handedly taught most of my year Defense when that horrible woman was teaching last year. I'm not an idiot."

"I didn't say you were, Harry."

"I know."

They fell into an awkward silence. Ten minutes later found them in Salazar's chambers, with Tom on the receiving end of a bone-crushing hug from Salazar and Harry trying unsuccessfully to stifle his laughter at the taken-aback look that appeared on Tom's face.

_**I have one of my sons back! **_Sal backed away from Tom and pointed a finger at his nose.

_**If you ever- and I mean EVER! Do that to me again, I will show you the wrath of a portrait. You will have nightmares for the rest of your life…**_

Harry stepped back and sat down on one of the couches and watched in amusement as Tom adopted a thoroughly chastised look as Sal scolded him. He thought for a moment that that must be what it was like to have a father, but then he realized that he could never truly know. Yes Sal had taken care of him and was like a surrogate father, but he couldn't be with him all the time. Harry couldn't quite make himself believe he had a family. Regardless of the fact that he had made friends, he still felt lonely.

He hid the bitter smile behind a yawn and waved at the two to gain their attentions. Sal looked at him first and immediately quietened when he saw through his mask, but he didn't say anything. Tom just looked at him questioningly, not seeing the thoughtful, wanting look on the teen's face that the Slytherin founder had.

"I'm going to go to bed, Sal. I've had a long day. Tell Severus that I'll talk to him tomorrow?"

"Harry…" Sal began.

"I'll see you later Sal, Tom." Harry walked away from the two, not letting them say anything.

The last thing he heard as he left the room was a quiet whisper from Tom.

"What's wrong, Sal?"

**xXx**

"Where have you been, Harry! Why did you avoid us today!"

That was the first thing he heard. Not 'How have you been'. Not 'Are you okay'. No. It was that and the silent question of: 'What have you done now?'

Ron met him in the dormitory when he came back from Salazar's chambers. A second after that found Harry being dragged down to the common room and sat down at a chair in front of the fire while Ron went to bring Hermione from her dormitory. When he came back, they both sat down to question him.

"I was in the dungeons, with Severus." Harry said, skillfully avoiding answering the second question. Thankfully, Ron, the idiot that he was about anything but Wizard's Chess, didn't notice.

"With that evil git? Why!"

"He was healing me. From coming back from the Dursley's"

"Seriously, mate. You're still keeping on with that story? We all know Dumbledore would have taken you from there if that were true. Come one, stop lying! Tell us what you were really doing! What was it? A secret mission for the Light?" Ron asked loudly, basically repeating what he had said for every year since the first. Hermione just sat off to the side with a look that said she supported Ron's every word.

The two of them- he couldn't bear to think of them as his friends with the way they had treated him for so long- sat there across from him, looking at him as if they actually cared about what he had done during the summer. But if they did, they would have believed him.

"If you won't believe me, then you don't recognize the truth." Harry stood up. "Excuse me. I'm going to bed now."

He was stopped as he reached the foot of the stairs by a hand on his shoulder.

"Ron. Get your hand off of me. I'm going to bed."

"No. Stop lying to us! We're your friends! We deserve to know! Tell us the truth!"

Harry turned back to him with a growl. Those words struck at his heart. His focus was now entirely on Ron. No one, nothing else existed. Not Hermione who was still sitting on the couch, watching them. And certainly not the two first years that had just come down from the girl's dormitories across the room.

"You don't deserve a thing from me! Neither of you are or have ever been my friends! And for your information, I have never lied to you. If anything, it's the other way around. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were paid to be my-" Harry cut himself off at the look that passed over Ron's face.

It was no secret that Ron couldn't keep emotions off his face. The moment Harry suggested that Ron had been paid to be his friend, the look of fear and panic that had passed his face confirmed the suspicion. That only made Harry angrier.

"You've got to be kidding me! You were actually-! Since when, Ron? After we got to Hogwarts? Before? Was it Dumbledore?"

With every question, Harry grew angrier as he read the answers to his questions off Ron's face. And Ron grew angrier that he couldn't keep his expressions under control. Everything fell into place with the more answers that Harry got.

Dumbledore approached Ron, and if he wasn't mistaken, Hermione, and paid them to befriend him before they came to Hogwarts. He had a gut feeling, which he hoped was true, that they were the only ones. That their families didn't know about it. He had a sudden suspicion that Dumbledore hadn't paid them out of his own pocket, either. He clenched his fists in an effort to control his temper and turned his back on the redhead.

"I'm going to bed Ron." Of course, Ron, being the idiot he was, couldn't take a hint. So, doing the smart thing, Ron threw a punch. It caught Harry on the back of his head and threw him against the wall to his right.

He vaguely heard a shout somewhere off to his left and the slam of what he recognized as the portrait door a second later, but he was preoccupied with Ron, who had since pounced on him. The Weasley punched him and kicked him, reopening wounds that had been closed but not yet healed. Thankfully, Ron's beating could not be compared to Vernon's, his scrawny arms with no weight or muscle behind them caused no damage by themselves, but mixing them with his previous condition would do no good. His hands were shielding his face.

He heard his wrist pop.

Then, suddenly, Ron was thrown back, across the common room, where he fell with a shocked look on the couch next to Hermione, who had since pulled out her wand and had it pointed at Harry. Looking at the entranceway to the Common Room, the three still in the room were surprised to see Draco standing in the doorway, his wand out, with a furious expression on his face and the two first year girls Harry had ignored earlier standing off to the side, looking at him with worried expressions. They saw Severus and McGonagall fly up behind him a few seconds later.

"Accio Granger and Weasley's wands!" Severus said loudly and the wands flew into his hand. He gave them to the Gryffindor head of house, who took them with a severe scowl at the two on the couch. Draco strode forward and tried to help Harry up, but Harry pushed his hands away and stood smoothly. Draco stood back, not at all offended that his newest friend had refused his help. If he were in Harry's situation, he would think it best to not appear weak.

"Professor, would it be alright if I spend tonight elsewhere? I do not think that I would have the best company here." He said without meeting anyone's eyes.

"Mr. Potter-" McGonagall began.

"Not you, Professor McGonagall. I was speaking to Professor Severus." Harry clarified with a glare. He saw Draco smirk out of the corner of his eye.

"Of course, Mr. Potter. Although I am not happy to have to heal you again so soon."

"I'll try to keep out of trouble from now on."

"Nonsense. Trouble finds you, Mr. Potter. Now come along."

"Yes, Professor."

"Now, wait a minute, Severus. Mr. Potter is in my house-"

"Yes, and we've all seen how that has worked out, have we not? If you want to complain further, Minerva, bring it up to me in the morning. I will be taking care of Mr. Potter until then."

Severus strode from the room with Harry walking seemingly easily close on his heels and with Draco not far behind. Once the portrait closed behind him, Severus turned around to face Harry, who, having expected it, quickly moved to support his weight against the wall.

"Harry, you can imagine how surprised Draco and I were to hear there was a fight involving Harry Potter and a red headed boy in the Gryffindor Common room from a first year on our way to the Slytherin dorms. What happened?"

Harry smiled. "Sorry to worry you. Didn't mean to." He stepped closer to Draco, who laid a hand on his arm to steady him. Harry was ghostly pale.

"It seems that all your hard work last night was for naught. He reopened most all of my cuts." He looked briefly behind Severus as he saw a shape moving towards them and the last thing he saw before he passed out was the sight of Tom striding towards them and an expression of shock on his face as Draco caught him before he hit the ground. He felt a strange kind of irritation at himself for Tom to have seen his new partner in this state just before his vision went black.


	6. Chapter 6

**6**

"You gave me the impression that you hated him, Severus."

The smooth voice echoed in his eardrums as his sleepy mind fought to bring itself to consciousness. He felt like he recognized the voice from somewhere. Why was it so familiar?

"And that impression was true until not too long ago." The acerbic drawl stopped there, not deigning to elaborate any further to the smooth voice. He felt hands on him, felt them move as he did, making it more comfortable for him as he was carried.

"Wake up, Harry." The smooth voice said from somewhere above him. "Come now, I know you are listening to us." _Ah, Tom. The other must be Severus, then. _Harry thought.

Harry roused a little before tensing in realization. He squeezed his eyes tight for a moment, before peeking out quickly and shutting them again. Tom was holding him. Why was Tom holding him?

"Tom, you are going to give him a heart attack."

Harry heard a scoff and felt the chest he laid against shake with a low chuckle.

"Professor? Why is Tom carrying me?" He said slowly.

"Harry, call me Severus when we are alone. I allow my Slytherins to, and, as Draco has since named you an honorary Slytherin, you must also. Tom is holding you because he refused to let me.

"He is my partner. How can I expect him to trust me if I do not take care of him when he needs it?" Tom said in that smooth voice Harry was coming to recognize him by. Harry figured that it would be impossible for anyone to copy it.

"Do I get a say in this?" Harry asked ignoring the way Tom's words had touched him. He opened his eyes in a slight glare at Tom before closing them again as a light shone painfully bright in his eyes. In the moment he'd opened his eyes, however, Tom had been looking directly at him with a raised eyebrow.

"No." Tom answered without pausing a moment. Harry sighed

"Fine."

Truth be told, Harry liked Tom carrying him. It was almost like floating; that was how smoothly Tom walked. Not to mention, of course, that it wasn't very likely he would be able to walk on his own at this particular moment.

Suddenly he heard a whisper pass through Severus's lips and, after a short pause, during which Harry supposed Severus had held the door open, he was carried into what he recognized as the man's chambers. Taking a quick look around, Harry saw the door that led to the room he'd first woken up in. Harry hadn't noticed before, but there had been two doors in his room. One that led out directly into the halls, which had been the one him, Severus, and Draco had all used, and then there was the one that led into Severus's living room, which was where they were now.

Tom made his way over to the long leather couch that sat in front of the large, tall fireplace and knelt to place Harry down onto it, first allowing Severus to pull a blanket onto the couch and underneath the boy to protect the couch from Harry's dripping blood. Then the potions professor disappeared into what was apparently his potions lab.

After Tom set Harry down, and used a quick cleaning charm to remove the blood from his robes, he moved to sit at the end of the couch; Harry wasn't tall enough to take up the whole thing. Tom leaned back and looked at Harry silently, then he spoke.

"What was the argument about?" Tom asked. Apparently, Snape-no, Severus- had given Tom the details of what had occurred while he'd been unconscious. And, due to the fact that Severus hadn't yet asked for an explanation of Tom's reference to Harry as his partner, it seemed Tom had told Severus some of what had happened between them in his office. It was, after all, a long walk from Gryffindor tower to the dungeons. Harry wondered why Tom, Severus, and Draco had been up there. And where Draco had gotten to. But Harry focused on Tom's question for the time being.

"I found out that Weasley and Granger were paid to be my friends." He refused to refer to them as his friends ever again. "And I get the idea that Dumbledore didn't feel like paying them with his own money." He finished bitterly. He was too tired to be angry. Apparently, Tom was not. His eyes flashed red and gained a calculating glint to them. A rather _murderous_ calculating glint.

"I thought the red-eyed, temper-driven, maniacal madman was gone, Tom." Harry said dryly.

Tom raised his eyebrow again, and Harry had to admit that it was more attractive than when either of the Malfoy men did it. Pausing for a second, however, Harry wondered where that particular thought had come from. Yeah, he knew he was gay, but, seriously? Going after his ex-mortal enemy? And since when had he paid any attention to the Malfoys'…uh…eyebrow raising techniques? He must have some serious blood loss.

"Of course, but I never said the original Tom Riddle had been the perfect angel, did I? I was quite temperamental back then as well."

"Well that's good news." Harry said sarcastically. Tom rolled his eyes.

"Back to the topic at hand, Harry. How did Weasley manage to injure you so badly? I'm sure even I never managed this amount of injuries against your person. Surely you did not sit back and allow him to use your body as a muggle punching bag." He said.

Harry averted his eyes and Tom's own widened. "But you did." He stated. It wasn't a question. "Why?" Tom asked firmly.

"Because he couldn't fight back." Both Harry and Tom turned to see Severus walk into the room, two vials in hand and two more floating along behind him along with a small covered container.

"Explain." Tom said. Severus ignored him and kneeled next to Harry after handing him the two vials in his hands. After taking them, Harry grimaced. Pain reliever and blood replenishing potions always tasted disgusting. He frowned, though, when Severus used his wand to cut through his now blood soaked shirt so he could get access to the boy's chest.

"That was my favorite shirt." He pouted.

"Then you should have thought twice before getting blood on it." Severus stated flatly. Harry huffed and quietened down, not knowing what to say in reply of that.

Tom sat impatiently, knowing that Severus would only answer him when he was good and ready, now that the fear of his wrath had been taken away. But he stilled and watched on with growing horror as he studied the many cuts and scars on Harry's chest. One drew his attention especially, though; the words carved into his skin just above his hip. Freak. Tom's eyes almost seemed to glow in his ire.

Severus spelled the still freely flowing blood off of Harry and covered the many reopened lacerations with cream from the little container that had floated into his hand the next moment. Then he began speaking. When Tom began to comprehend what Severus was saying, he wondered why Harry hadn't told the man to be quiet, why the boy just sat there staring at nothing and saying nothing as the potions master gave his life's secret away.

"He was abused, Tom. After you first tried to kill him, Dumbledore placed him with his Aunt and Uncle and allowed him to be neglected and beaten and starved while his cousin grew fat off his serving of food. He should be a good six inches taller and at _least_ twenty pounds heavier. I only just allowed Harry off bed rest this evening. Most of his injuries from over the summer had not even fully healed by the time he got on the train to come here." Severus turned and met his eyes and, in that moment, Tom knew how Harry had changed the professor's opinion of him so suddenly. He also knew how Harry's loyalties had been 'put in to question' as Harry had told him earlier in the evening.

"I'll kill that man." Tom hissed. Not a second later two sets of incredulous eyes turned to Harry as they heard giggling that soon escalated into full out crazed laughter, even though it was apparent that the laughter must have been hurting him; one of his larger wounds tore open even as the paste Severus had used was beginning to stitch it back together.

"Harry, calm down. What are you laughing about?" Tom asked as soothingly as he could.

"Ha-ha- I just -ha- which man?" The boy said through tears, although Tom was sure they were not from the laughing fit.

Tom looked Harry over speculatively. "I must say Harry. I cannot believe that you are in a much saner state than I am myself."

Harry then stopped laughing abruptly, which made the two men jump, and turned suddenly clear eyes towards him with a bitter grin. "You don't have to, Tom. I'll tell you myself I'm not in the right state of mind." He leaned his head back against the arm of the couch.

Tom was quiet for a moment. If one thought about it, closely or not, Harry's abuse stemmed directly from his murder of the boy's parents, and if there was anything he hated above anything else, it was child abuse.

"I…What can I do to help?" Severus, in the midst of reapplying the paste to Harry's wounds, turned amazed eyes onto him. He'd never heard his former master freely offer help without anything being in it for himself.

Harry turned a childish smile towards Tom, nearly breaking what little the man had managed to recover of his heart.

"Can you save me, Tom?" He whispered, his eyes closing slowly.

Harry had fallen asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**7**

The next morning, Harry woke to a warmly lit familiar room, tucked under a thick blanket. He rubbed his eyes for a moment, then moved smoothly, albeit slowly, into an upright position. He sighed as he realized that Severus must have worked on him for a while for him to be as healed as he felt. He neither felt a pull on his injuries nor did he feel stiff as he would have had his cuts and bruises healed naturally. Harry couldn't help but admire the amazing capabilities of magic.

Not long after he woke, while he was poking at the angry pink scars along his torso, there was a soft knock on the door of the room that led to Severus's living room.

"Come in." He said softly, though he was sure Severus heard him. The door clicked open and swung inward. Severus followed it in not a second later, levitating a tray of food behind him the whole while.

"I thought you had classes today." Harry said, leaving the statement open as a question. Severus put the tray down in Harry's lap and gestured for him to eat before he spoke.

"I do, but they are all afternoon classes, due to start in…" he cast a quick wandless tempus. "…a little over two hours. Incidentally, that is your class period. Do you think you are well enough to attend?" The potions master asked as he pulled up a chair beside the bed.

Harry smiled through a bite of bread. "Yes, I'm feeling much better, Severus. Thank you for healing me again."

Severus looked uncomfortable at the expression of gratitude and waved it off. "I'm only doing what I should have in the first place. It is my job to take care of students who pass through these halls and I made the mistake of ignoring you because of your father."  
"Severus, I've already forgiven you. Don't worry about it anymore. Besides, you've saved my life more than once since I've been here and twice this year already." Harry grinned. "No point in dwelling on the past."

"That seems to be your new motto lately." Tom said from the doorway. Both Severus and Harry jumped at the sudden appearance and Harry's hand shot to his scar.

"What?" Tom asked with a worried look. "Does it hurt?"

Harry shook his head. "No! That's not it. Usually it hurts when you're near me, but it doesn't even sting right now!" He said excitedly, putting down the last of the egg he'd been nearly inhaling before Tom appeared. He set the tray on the side table and, moving carefully, but nimbly, Harry stepped out of the bed-he idly noted that someone had changed him into pajamas-and around Severus, who was staring at him curiously. Harry made his way to Tom, who stood still in the doorway, watching him with a guarded expression.

When Harry came close, he raised a hand and touched the man's cheek hesitantly, obviously ignoring the taken aback expression that crossed Tom's face at the sudden invasion of personal space. After almost half a minute, when nothing of any import seemed to happen to the occupants of the room, besides the slow raising of one of Tom's eyebrows, a smile split Harry's face nearly in two.

"Harry?" Severus asked, thinking, as Tom had suggested the night before, that the boy might have truly lost his mind.

"It doesn't hurt anymore…" Harry said, much more calmly than he had been before he had risen from the bed. He smiled, facing Tom but not really seeing him. He raised his hand to his neck. A slight hissing could be heard before a white head popped out from beneath his pajama top.

_**What is it?**_ Ami hissed grumpily. _**I just got to sleep.**_

_**Sorry to wake you, Ami. I thought you might want some breakfast.**_ Harry said distractedly.

Severus, who was completely lost by now, not having understood Harry's Parseltongue, looked to Tom. The Dark Lord's features were pinched, his eyes squinting as if it would allow him to decipher what was going on. This expression soon morphed into a glare. The Dark Lord did not like being confused.

"Harry, would you care to explain?" Tom demanded.

Ami moved her head to look at Harry's face as well, having noticed something was wrong. Though the boy was smiling, it seemed like one of the smiles he put on for her to make sure she didn't worry about him. But she was distracted momentarily as Harry prepared to give her breakfast.

While the other inhabitants of the room were staring at him in confusion, Harry sat on the end of the bed and set Ami down next to him. Then he waved his hand over an empty space next to her. The moment his hand passed over the space, a small squeak was heard and a grayish ball of fur could be seen darting towards the edge of the bed. A second later, the mouse was in Ami's mouth, the pink tail hanging out as she swallowed it whole.

Tom and Severus gawked at him. Then they exchanged glances. A fifteen year-old boy had just performed some of the most difficult wordless and wandless magic without even paying attention, something it had taken them years of practice to be able to do correctly. Harry just watched Ami eat her meal, pleasantly ignoring their stares. Tom cursed under his breath then moved forward to Salazar's portrait. He knocked on the side of the empty frame lightly.

"Salazar, can you come here? We need your help."

Almost a minute passed before anything happened, but then Sal stepped into view. He developed a worried look on his face when he saw Harry sitting on the bed staring into space. He put a hand to his face and rubbed his forehead with a groan

"We need to know what's happened to him." Severus started, standing from his seat next to the bed. "I came into his room not thirty minutes ago and he was fine, then Tom came in, and Harry started going on about how his scar didn't hurt anymore, then… He got like this."

"It's alright." Salazar began, but Tom interrupted him before he could continue.

"'Alright'? How is _that_ 'alright'?" Tom snapped. "He doesn't even seem to see us, let alone hear us!"

"Snakeling! Calm yourself." Salazar ordered. Tom's mouth clicked shut. "Thank you. Now, as I was about to say, Harry does this whenever he needs to think. Granted he doesn't let his mind drift when he's around just anyone. You should be happy he feels safe enough to let his guard down in front of you."

"But why now? There shouldn't be anything he needs to think about! He only found out that my presence doesn't cause him pain anymore. That should be the end of that."

"Tom, think. You should know better than that. When Dumbledore first got to you, you were already wise to the pains of life. You knew you were different and you kept away from everyone by choice. When he came to you to take you to Hogwarts, you already knew not to trust him. But Harry has been in his grasp for years. He trusted the bastard because Dumbledore took him away from his relatives. Until his third year, Harry never even began to question him.

"Harry was told by Dumbledore that you and he were connected by a curse scar that would _always_ hurt him when you were near, and when you had particularly high emotions. It's another lie that Harry has just stumbled upon and he needs to sort through his thoughts. But, again, think. He could always tell when he was in danger if his scar hurt. It was a strange sort of safety blanket. He no longer has that to rely on, even though he knows, logically, that he should no longer need it now that you two have a truce. Everything in his life is changed."

"And he is overwhelmed." Tom sighed.

"Exactly."

_**But he'll be alright?**_ Ami asked, having listened to them as she finished her meal. She'd since slithered up onto Harry's leg and the boy was now slowly stroking her head. _**He's never done this around me before.**_

"Yes, he'll be fine." Salazar nodded his head. Then he turned to Severus. The Potions Master was still standing over Harry and off to the side, as if preparing to catch Harry if he fell. Even though Harry seemed fine, there was this air around him that made him seem like he was exhausted. "Are his injuries healed? I heard what happened from one of the portraits in Gryffindor tower."

"They have all been healed." Severus answered. "I still have no idea what got into that Weasley boy. To do that to his best friend."

"He was no such thing to Harry." Tom hissed, glaring at an unoccupied spot in the room. Salazar looked away from Harry and focused his eyes on Tom. Severus did as well, a questioning glint in his dark eyes.

"What do you mean?" They asked at the same time.

"Harry found out, last night, that Dumbledore has been paying the Weasley boy and the Granger girl to be his 'friends'. They've been keeping tabs on him, likely even influencing his decisions. He told me that, had he not met the Weasley boy before he came to Hogwarts, he would have been in the Slytherin house. Dumbledore could not have that, his weapon in my old house."

"That bastard! If I were able-!" Salazar growled in frustration.

"You don't have to worry, Sal." Tom, Sal, Severus, and Ami's heads all shot towards where Harry sat on the bed. He was looking down at the floor and clenching his fists. When he looked up, he met Tom's eyes, even as he spoke to all of them. His lips slowly curved into a smirk that any pureblood would be proud of.

"When we take control of Hogwarts, I'll be sure to bring him down to your chambers myself." He broke gazes with Tom and his eyes moved to meet those of everyone in the room. "I've done my thinking, and I've decided. I'll help you take over, Tom."

"I thought you'd already decided to join my side." He asked with a raised eyebrow.

"But the word 'partner' is nothing more than a word. I never said I would _actively_ help you." Harry said impishly.

Tom scowled hard. "He's been around you for far too long, Sal."

"Ah… that … I'd have to agree with you." Sal smiled sheepishly.

Ami hissed a laugh and Severus smirked.


	8. Chapter 8

**8**

As it was Tom's free period, and Severus had had to leave before them to prepare for his class, Tom escorted Harry to the Potions class. Harry had complained, but Tom insisted that it was necessary to make sure he was completely alright from his injuries. Harry left Ami in the room he had claimed in Severus's guest quarters so that the fumes of the potions would not bother her; he knew for sure that Severus would start them on a potion right away.

They were both quiet for a bit, having nothing to speak about, but as they climbed the staircases, Harry spoke.

"Tonight, I…" Harry scowled and Tom sent a questioning look at him. The boy was becoming increasingly confusing. After a second, Harry continued. "I wanted to ask if we could speak later."

"About what?"

Harry shrugged. "A couple of things. I need to know the extent of your plans so I know what I need to do. I also wanted to ask if…" Tom sighed when Harry paused again.

"What?"

"I wanted to ask if you would teach me, like in spells… The ones you're good at." Harry looked around surreptitiously, making sure there were no portraits around to hear him speak. Tom pulled out his wand (to his credit, Harry didn't flinch) and cast a privacy charm so that no one could hear them.

"I am continuously surprised by you, Harry. I had no idea you were even remotely interested in Dark Magic."

Harry raised an eyebrow at the man. "I've spent a lot of my nights at Hogwarts with Salazar. You really think I have an aversion to different types of magic?"

"Touché, but I would think you would have asked Salazar about those types of magic. And, forgive me for mentioning it, but I still have no idea how far Dumbledore has gotten in his manipulations of you."

Harry was quiet for a moment and, as he and Tom turned down a corridor that contained one of the quicker secret passages down to the dungeons, sighed heavily. For a second Tom thought he had upset the boy.

"To be honest, I have no idea either. But as to your first thought, did you ask Slytherin to teach you magic?"

"No. I figured that it would be unfair to him-"

"-Because he didn't have any magic of his own to use anymore? Yes, I had the same thought."

Tom stared at him for a second before ducking into the passageway under a tapestry hanging on the stone wall, which surprised Harry for a second before he followed.

"We really must have that talk." Tom said as he waved a hand and the lights designed to detect human motion grew to light their way."

"Is tonight alright?" Harry asked. They came out into the dungeons, right next to the potion's classroom.

"Yes. The Room of Requirement?"

"How did you-? Never mind. I'll be there after dinner." As he went to enter the classroom, he felt Tom's hand on his shoulder and turned back to the man.

"To answer your question, about teaching you, I will." Tom said, almost awkwardly. Harry smiled and nodded his head, then turned and walked into what used to be his most hated classroom in the castle.

**xXx**

The second he entered the classroom, he tensed as every head turned towards him. He was thankful that there were only seven other people in the Advanced Potions class, and even more thankful that Hermione and Ron had decided not to take this class this year. If they had, Harry couldn't be sure he would have come to this class at all today. He certainly wasn't ready to face them yet.

Most of the eyes that were focused on him, however, weren't much friendlier than he supposed the other two-thirds of the "Golden Trio" would be when they next saw him. But these eyes he could deal with.

First was Draco, who was grinning at him like Harry was his long-lost friend come to visit. Harry again felt a pang in his chest that told him he was an idiot for ever spurning Draco's offer of friendship in the first place. He moved across the classroom to the empty seat Draco had saved for him and tried to ignore all the others in the room, except for an oblique glance at Neville Longbottom. He wondered how the poor boy had managed to even get into this class, as terrible at potions as he had been last year. He smiled at seeing Luna Lovegood sitting in a secluded corner. She smiled back lazily at him.

The others in the class were from all houses, except Hufflepuff, and they were all from his year. Terry Boot and Lavender Brown were semi-friendly faces, but they were all glaring at him for some reason. He guessed that Ron had already started spreading rumors about him. Daphne Greengrass, a mild-looking Slytherin, and Theodore Nott. The latter two all but ignored him once he sat down in the chair next to Draco.

"How are you?" The blond aristocrat asked him quietly.

"Better now that I know Hermione and Ron aren't going to be in this class." Harry grinned. He was still trying to wrap his head around the offer that Voldemort- no, Tom- had given him. It sounded like it profited only Harry, because, really, Harry stood no chance going against the man. Oh sure, Harry could get a few blows in, but he was sure Tom would be the final victor. Besides, Tom seemed genuine.

"Harry?" Draco asked, when Harry didn't say anything else.

"It's nothing. What do you think Severus will have us do?" Harry changed the subject so obviously that Draco just stared for a moment before sighing.

"I don't know. He hasn't told me yet, so I can only think he's plotting against us."

"I'm just glad you rotten Slytherins won't be sabotaging my potions anymore. It was all I could do to keep them from blowing up in my face!" Harry said with a grin to let Draco know he wasn't serious.

Draco flushed all the same. "You- you could have put up a shielding charm!" He defended.

"No he couldn't have, Mr. Malfoy." Came the foreboding voice from the front of the classroom. Somehow, Severus had come in without them noticing. He leveled a pair of keen eyes onto the students. "Among other things this year, you will learn that, with most potions, you simply cannot cast spells within the vicinity of the brew. Because of this, trying to sabotage other students' potions with charms or incorrect ingredients will not be tolerated. In the past, I have allowed this, as I believe it is healthy to develop the ability to deal with stray ingredients falling into a brew quickly and efficiently. However, as Mr. Potter must certainly realize by now, since he dealt with such things quite frequently…" Here, Severus met Harry's gaze. Harry didn't know whether to scowl or smirk at the man. If he'd known all these years, why hadn't he ever stopped it? Severus ran his eyes along the group of Slytherins in the room. They balked.

"… it is tiresome and a waste of time to have to deal with. This year, we will be working on simple and advanced potions alike. I will call this class in to work on potions at all hours, and be prepared to work on a single potion for hours at a time. Today, you will be working on a simple blood-replenishing potion. However-!" Severus eyed Terry as he moved to go to the ingredients closet. The young man froze, then slowly moved back into his seat, looking for all the world like a deer caught in headlights.

"I will give you only five minutes to look in your books for the ingredients and instructions. After that, you are to begin brewing the potion from memory." There was a little groan from Lavender.

"Sir!" Draco put his hand in the air.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?"

"What if we cannot remember it properly? If we skip a step or…"

"Do not worry. I will be supervising. If one of you makes a mistake that is potentially hazardous, I will stop you. But understand that this is how you will be brewing the more common potions from now on. You had best make sure you read your potions books very thoroughly. Now, open your books and gather your ingredients. Your five minutes. Begin now."

Severus looked back to Harry. He motioned him to the front as the other students began to read through their Potion's books studiously. Harry stood and moved to where the man had beckoned him.

"Since you're obviously not dead from the potions you took over the summer, I want you to make the example potion." The Professor said so that only Harry could hear. Severus didn't smile at him, supposedly trying to keep his reputation intact among the other students, but there was something in his voice that made Harry smile at him. Perhaps it was the sarcasm. "Perhaps you can use this opportunity to show me exactly how good you are at Potions."

And there it was. The challenge that Harry had been waiting for ever since the man had stepped into the room. The only reason Harry had come to this class today was so that he could show the man that he'd been holding back. He wanted to make Severus, the first person to treat him as other than the boy-who-lived, proud. He didn't know why, but, when he'd spoken to Severus earlier in the day, he'd felt the inexplicable urge to earn the man's respect. And here Severus was giving him the chance to. Harry nodded his head. "Yes, sir!"

He practically scurried over to the ingredients closet after setting up his cauldron and the burner beneath it. He could feel Draco's stare on him as he slid his book off the counter and out of his way without glancing at it. He set about pre-crushing and cutting the ingredients as the fire burned, something that he had not done in his previous years of potions, and which was a mark of someone who was well-versed in brewing potions. Severus had never taught this in his class. However, Harry had noticed that Severus's example potions'- when he decided an example was needed- ingredients were always pre-prepared, unless they called to be thrown in whole or prepared at the last moment. So, Harry had taken to copying the man in private.

This particular potion took thirty minutes to brew, and was a relatively simple process to remember. As the cauldron reached the right temperature, he dropped in the first of the ingredients with a clockwise stir.

Resigned to wait another five minutes until the next ingredient needed to be added, Harry glanced around the classroom. Severus was standing next to Luna, who was just setting up her cauldron. It seemed that she had called him over to ask a question. Surprisingly, it seemed as if he was interested in what she was telling him, and, if Harry didn't know any better, he would say Severus had nearly smiled at that last bit she said.

Severus nodded and told her something quietly, then he moved to the next table, where Theodore Nott was just adding his first ingredient, although he'd added it a bit too soon. Severus noted this as well and told Nott, who nodded.

It seemed that, with this class, Severus was planning on being more interactive. Harry nodded in approval to himself, then turned and added the next ingredient with two counter-clockwise stirs. Next was a ten minute wait. Next to be visited by Severus was Neville. They were close enough to him that he could hear them.

"Hello, Sir." Neville said stiffly.

"Indeed, Mr. Longbottom." Severus drawled. "I must admit that I am curious as to how you aced the exams last year, but nearly failed my class." He trailed off, leaving it as a question.

"Well, I…"

"Yes?"

"You- ah, you make me nervous, Sir." Neville said slowly. Harry could see that something had happened over the summer. Before, something like that said to Severus from Neville would have come out as a squeak. Harry's curiosity was peaked.

"Well. We can't have that, now can we?" Severus said, as good-naturedly as was surely possible to someone he'd tormented for years. "You needn't worry about anything in this class. This group is one that will be working closely together for the rest of the school year. This is the first year that I've been able to work an advanced group into my schedule, so I have high hopes. If any of you needs help, my doors will be open."

For Neville, this must have completely blindsided him, because Harry could see his eyes widen in surprise and his shoulders stiffen. Then, out of nowhere, he smiled.

"Thank you, Sir." Severus blinked for a moment, probably a little surprised at the gratitude that seemed to radiate off of Neville. Then he nodded and moved on to stand beside Draco.

"You're in a very good mood today, Sev." Draco said softly.

"Shush, brat. And keep that hand away from your cauldron for another two minutes or you'll be pulling back a burnt one." Draco hastily pulled the handful of ingredient away from the cauldron at his godfather's warning.

Harry laughed as he dropped his own ingredient into his cauldron almost without thinking about it. He stirred twice clockwise and once counterclockwise and settled down for the last fifteen minutes intermittently stirring clockwise every two minutes. Severus waded among the other seven students, and didn't come to his cauldron until he'd prepared for his last step.

Just as Severus was a step away from his cauldron, Harry took the heavy wooden spoon and violently pulled it through the potion as if he were cutting the potion evenly down the middle with a long knife. He saw Severus stiffen just before he pulled the spoon from the potion. At the same moment, he realized what he'd done.

"Potter, what do you think you're doing?" Severus pulled his wand from his sleeve, preparing to vanish the potion before it could become potentially hazardous. Before he could, Harry stepped in front of his potion.

"No, wait. It's not dangerous, I swear." Severus eyed him carefully, before putting his wand away.

"Explain. That motion is not used in conventional potion-making."

Harry sensed the eyes of the others in the room on him. He glanced at them surreptitiously before looking back at Severus, trying to let him know that the answer partially involved his time in his relative's house during the summer. Severus understood, if his narrowed eyes were anything to go by.

"I've brewed this potion before for…practice. During the last step, just like I did just now, someone snuck up on me and startled me, causing me to make that motion into the potion. At the same time, I had received a large cut in my arm with my Potion's knife. I knew that my potion wasn't dangerous, because I tested it with one of those pieces of paper the Potions book says to test accidental potions with. So, because I had already lost a lot of blood, I decided to try it."

"Reckless as always." Draco commented.

Harry shrugged. "I blame it on blood-loss. But, anyway, it seems that I accidentally created a Blood-Replenishing potion that responds better to knife wounds than any other injury. It even clots the blood at the wound so that the wound can begin to knit itself together faster." He grinned, proud of his creation, even if it was only accidental.

Severus frowned, and then nodded at the cauldron. "Get a vial of it, and come with me. Everyone else, continue to work on your potions. For the remainder of class you may use your book." There were sighs of relief as Harry followed the man to the door than led to his office. When the door closed, Severus turned to face him with an interested expression on his face. "You brewed this during the summer? Are there any side-effects? Has anyone other than you used it yet? How many times have you made it?"

Harry blinked as he was bombarded with questions by the teacher he had always thought was the least talkative among the staff. "Umm…I've made it more times than I can count, but the first time I made this variant was here, in Hogwarts, in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. She was the one who snuck up on me." He paused here for a breath. Severus nodded at the information. "The only side-effect that I can see is that it makes you have a nose-bleed if you take it when you don't need it. But that's normal for the regular potion as well. I didn't realize it worked particularly well on knife wounds until I used it over the summer. I've noticed it works well for animals on all injuries as well; I've had to give it to Ami and Hedwig before. If it helps, Salazar took a look at it and said he didn't see any problems with it."

"I see." Severus said slowly.

"I think it has something to do with the fact that the gesture looks so much like a knife cutting through the potion."

"It might, actually, since a lot of potions pick up on the intent of the brewer, or the violence or gentleness in a brewer's motions. Like how Longbottom is so much better with healing potions than anything else because he always treats the cauldron like glass."

"Thank you for being nice to him, by the way. You might've just made yourself a new friend." Harry grinned.

Severus grimaced, then he took off his cloak and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, still staring at the potion in Harry's hand. "That was _not_ my intention. I just don't need him blowing up anything. Can I hold that for a moment?"

"Yeah, sure. What for?" Harry gave the small glass tube to the man, who turned around and searched for something in his desk drawer. When he turned around, he held the vial in the palm of his right hand with a knife clutched with the tips of his fingers. Before Harry could do anything, Severus had already sliced the top of his left forearm open with a hiss of pain and was holding it over a towel that he'd already laid on his desk. As the blood rolled down his arm, and as Harry scowled at him when the shock wore off, he pulled the cork from the vial with his teeth and downed the dose. He then handed the vial to Harry, who said nothing, and he started to wipe the blood from his arm.

"It should start clotting within a minute." Harry said, frowning over the fact that Severus hadn't said he was going to test his potion. And for scaring him in the process.

"I can already feel it working. With no adverse effects." Severus nodded. He looked at Harry with an inquiring glance. "This is good work. Do you want me to bring it in front of some of the other Potion's masters? To get it acknowledged?"

Harry looked down at his feet. It had been an accident that he'd made the potion. He didn't deserve that much credit for it. To get the potion acknowledged would mean that he'd be named as the potion's creator, wouldn't it? He said as much to Severus.

"Harry, improvements are made to potions all the time. The new potions are all categorized in branches under the original potion."

"Really? Then, I mean, that would be fine."

"I will do that, then." Severus finished wiping off the blood and revealed the scabbing cut. "Did this help you a lot?"

Harry realized what he was asking. "If I hadn't had that potion, I would have died this year."

Severus grimaced. "I see." He sighed. "Well, I had better get back out there." He rolled his sleeves back down and pulled his cloak back on.

"Severus." The professor looked back to Harry as the boy called his name. Harry was looking at the knife Severus had left out on the desk with a grim expression. "I don't have so many friends now that I can afford to lose one…At least warn me before you…"

There was silence for a moment before Severus could think of an answer to that. And even then, then best he could find as a response was: "Of course."

Harry nodded and slowly pulled a smile back onto his face. "We should go before they blow something up."

Severus studied him for a moment before replying.

"Indeed we should."

**xXx**

The moment they walked into the room, there was a hush that signaled everyone had been talking about them. Since the Blood-replenishing potion had long been complete, someone had had the sense to get everyone else to bottle a sample and then clean up their respective areas.

"You should have all heard Mr. Potter's explanation about his potion. Before I tell you anything, I must warn you that it is dangerous to brew potions solitarily, unless you are a Potion's master or apprentice. If you have an idea for a potion, you may bring it to me, but other than that, please try to refrain from _accidents_." Here, Severus gave a look to Harry. "That being said, though, it appears that Mr. Potter has created a potentially life-saving potion. I will be taking it to some fellow masters to see about getting it acknowledged. Mr. Potter should be congratulated. For now, you are free to do as you wish until your next class. Do not become used to having no assignment; you have just been spared by my good mood at this new discovery.

"Again, you have Mr. Potter to thank. Dismissed."


	9. Chapter 9

**Okay, right, sorry for such a long wait. If you've been reading my other stories you might know that I've been reviewing and editing my stories and while I could use that as an excuse for making you guys wait so long...well, I just won't. Anyway, please enjoy!**

**9**

As everyone fled from the dungeons with delight, Harry and Draco stayed behind, not anticipating a good next few hours with the chance of Ron and Hermione being in their classes. Oddly enough, Harry couldn't remember seeing them the first time he had come to classes, but this time, he was sure they would appear.

After a few long minutes of silence, Severus finally shoo-ed them from the classroom, probably to mull over Harry's potion some more.

"At least our next class is with Professor Hostes." Draco said as they moved down the hallway. They had a few minutes until they had to be their Defense against the Dark Arts class. Harry had yet to tell Draco the man's true identity, although he suspected that Severus would pass the news along quickly enough. Harry was also as interested as Draco was to see how their next class would go.

His thoughts were interrupted as a young Ravenclaw student made his way towards them; he looked like a first year. In the emptiness of the halls, he reached them in a few moments. The boy looked up at Harry and Draco, his eyes widening for a moment at seeing a Gryffindor and Slytherin walking together so amicably. Especially with the Gryffindor being the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry inwardly snorted. He hated the persona the magical community had thought up for him.

"Ah…Harry Potter? The headmaster wants to see you in his office. The password is Lemon Drops."

Harry's mood darkened at hearing the boy's message, but he didn't let it show on his face. He nodded and thanked the boy, who stuttered and nearly ran in his hurry to get back to his class, then he turned around and made his way towards a secret passageway that would lead him there more quickly so he could get the meeting over with. Draco followed him, a worried look surfacing on his face once they were alone in the hall.

"Are you sure you want to go? He might try to Obliviate you or something."

"Yes. I'll be fine." Harry paused and glared fiercely at a suit of armor, which he thought might have flinched away from his angry gaze. "He won't dare try anything. If he does, it'll be the end of him." The threat made Draco nod understandingly.

"Be careful."

"I will. Tell Professor Hostes where I am."

"I will. See you later."

"Yeah." Harry pushed a tapestry away from the wall and disappeared into it. He just barely managed to restrain himself from punching the wall of the hidden corridor as he did. He strode through the darkness without bothering to light his wand. Why couldn't he spend one day back at his adopted home without facing some sort of problem?

The gods didn't care for him all that much, that was for sure.

**xXx**

Harry trudged up the spiral stairway after repeating the password to the Gargoyle, who gave him a long-suffering look before jumping to the side. He wondered when the Headmaster would stop using candy as a password. Even if he hadn't been given the password, "lemon drops" had already been used for the password at least twice, so he would have figured it out eventually.

"Professor, you wanted to see me?" Harry called after he knocked on the heavy door.

"Yes, Harry, please come in." Dumbledore answered. Harry smirked; the man was smart enough not to use his favorite endearment for him. Those words, 'my dear boy', never failed to set off his temper when he was angry with the man, though he usually managed to hide it.

Harry entered the gaudy room and sat himself down in a chair without waiting for the headmaster to tell him to take a seat. As his eyes scanned the room, he nearly scowled to see Hermione and Ron sitting in two chairs off to the left side of the room.

Looking determinedly away, Harry saw Fawkes on the other side of Dumbledore's desk. It seemed that the phoenix's Burning Day had just passed, since the creature was just a chick once again and was covered in soft down feathers. Fawkes was staring straight at him and Harry smiled as he met the magical creature's eyes. He jumped when Fawkes disappeared in a puff of smoke, which was not yet tinged with the flame his adult form was capable of producing, and reappeared in Harry's lap. Trying not to laugh, Harry stroked the creature's unnaturally warm body. Fawkes crouched and made a noise akin to purring.

"Harry." Dumbledore's voice brought Harry's irritation back to the forefront of his mind. Looking up, he fought to keep his feelings from his face. With Dumbledore being as accomplished in mind magic as Harry suspected he was, he was also wary of meeting the man's eyes. He focused on a point just over the man's right shoulder.

"Yes, Headmaster?"

"Your friends have brought it to my attention that you have not been acting normally since coming back to school. I must also say that it is odd that Professor Snape has focused so much attention and time on you. I am well of your enmity towards each other."

_If you are so aware of our enmity towards each other, then why did you let him teach me Occlumency, you bastard?_

"Did they also mention how Ron attacked me? Or how Professor Snape was tending to my wounds from the summer break?" Harry did not mention the fact that Dumbledore had been paying his so-called friends from the start. He would deal with that later.

"Yes, Harry, I have already given Mister Weasley detention for his loss of temper in the Gryffindor common room, and he will be serving it with Filch until Christmas break. But I am surprised at you, continuing on with your story about abuse at the hands of the Dursleys. They could never do something so terrible. And now you're recruiting one of the professors in your story as well. I will have to speak to Severus about this."

Harry turned his eyes towards Fawkes to keep his temper in check. The bird was looking up at him with sad eyes and he rubbed his tiny head against Harry's thumb as if to comfort him. When Dumbledore began to speak again, Harry forced himself to look back up. The man was looking disapprovingly at Fawkes, as if the creature were doing something wrong by allowing himself to be touched by Harry. Harry nearly sneered before he could catch himself.

"And I heard from Minerva that you ignored her and left without her permission to go with Severus, not to mention accused Mister Weasley and Miss Granger here of being coerced into friendship with you, by my hand no less! It's no wonder Mister Weasley became so mad. Harry, my dear boy, I must think that you are beginning to act out for attention!"

Harry had to close his eyes and forced himself to breathe deeply. He'd thought he might be able to contain his temper, but Dumbledore seemed to want him to throw a tantrum. The way he was familiarizing himself by using Harry's first name when he used Hermione's and Ron's last names. The way he was covering for Ron's slips about being paid to be his friend. The way he called Harry a liar. And worst of all, the way he accused Harry of wanting more attention. He needed to get out of the office before he lost his temper.

"Harry! We only want to help you!" Hermione said, pleadingly. Harry's eyes darted over to her and Ron, who was attempting and failing at acting innocent. That was the final straw.

Harry cradled Fawkes in one hand and walked in slow measured steps to the phoenix's perch. He set him down, almost hesitating at the small cry Fawkes let out as he did so. But he turned around and looked at Dumbledore.

"What did you call me here for, Headmaster?" He said, trying his hardest to keep the derision from his voice.

"I only wish for the best for you, Harry. I am trying to help you, but I cannot let you get away with what you are doing. It will set a bad example for the students, you understand."

_Hurry up, you senile old fool, before I start throwing curses at you._ Harry clenched the fist of his right hand, and felt the skin of his palms begin to give way to his sharp nails.

"So I feel I have no choice but to give you detention. Unfortunately, none of the regular teachers are available to help Mr. Filch out with detention duty and it seems that a punishment served with Professor Snape would not be sufficient. Professor Hostes, however, has requested an assistant until he becomes used to the schedule at Hogwarts. So you will do what he needs you to. You will report to him during any free periods once you have completed your school work. This will continue until you stop this ridiculous lying."

Harry had to hold back his laughter. The old fool obviously had no clue whatsoever that Tom was in Hogwarts right under his nose. Harry's temper vanished the moment he heard his so-called punishment, though his anger towards the three people in the room was still burning under his skin.

"Yes, sir. May I return to class now?" Harry asked, looking at the ground and forcing his twitching lips into stillness.

"Of course, my boy." Dumbledore said in his grandfatherly voice. Harry could leave the room no quicker, although he felt as if he wanted to take Fawkes with him. The innocence in the chick made Harry want to protect him, which meant he wanted to keep him well away from Ron, Hermione, _or_ Dumbledore. But the Phoenix was Dumbledore's, or at least he assumed so. He'd have to ask Salazar about it.

Belatedly, he wondered why Ron and Hermione had been in the office. There hadn't been any function in their presence. Maybe they'd expected him to accuse them again. That would make some sense. At least that way, Dumbledore would have had reason to punish him more severely, for wild accusations. He might have even called for the magical equivalent of a mental evaluation. Or, more probably, an Obliviate Charm.

Harry didn't think he'd ever made his way more quickly back to a class from a visit with the headmaster. He'd be back in time for the last thirty minutes of class with Tom.

**xXx**

When he opened the classroom door, Harry was surprised to see that the DADA classroom had been enlarged to facilitate paired dueling, something like what he'd done with his DA the past year. Tom was walking around and among the students, who were having a blast throwing harmless charms and hexes back and forth. Most of them, Harry could see, actually had been in his DA sessions, and they were the students who had most attracted Tom's attention.

Draco and Neville were having the fiercest battle in the room. It seemed that Neville had replaced his wand with something that fit his personality as it had been when he fought beside Harry in the Department of Mysteries last year. Neville stood far more confidently, with a wide and sturdy stance, and shot spell after spell at Draco, who returned the favor easily, but without the viciousness of past years. Neville spells were also more offensive than they had been when Harry had last seen him cast spells.

Tom's attention was riveted to the duel, even though it must not have been as high a level as he was used to. The two boys weren't moving around, like Harry had taught Neville to do. He figured that it must have been because the other students were not moving either, or because Draco hadn't moved and Neville had copied him. Either way, the two of them were still doing well. Harry almost wished Draco had joined the DA. He must have learned dueling from an early age, because his spell-work was smooth and uninterrupted.

After another five minutes, where Harry continued to go unnoticed and the rest of the students' attentions were soon drawn to Draco's and Neville's duel, Tom clapped his hands twice, getting everyone's attention. Draco and Neville lowered their wands.

"Very good! This was a good example of dueling etiquette and good examples of two very talented wizards. Give them a hand!" The class clapped. As he looked around, Tom noticed Harry near the door. He smirked, and Harry nearly gulped as a gleam entered the man's eyes. "However, this is not a dueling course, and in a situation where real Defense Against the Dark Arts is necessary, you simply cannot stand still like…what is it muggles say? Ah, yes…sitting ducks. You must use your feet. Dodge, run, and think ahead! Mr. Potter!" The students all looked around to find the subject of their teacher's attention.

"Yes, sir?" Harry could tell Tom was enjoying himself. But then again, every single thing Tom had said was true, and he'd taught the DA the very same way. There was nothing quite like teaching by example and Tom obviously wanted him to be a part of the example.

"I've heard many a good thing about your DA club last year. I would like to give the other students a good example of a real life duel, and you've had a good bit of experience. Not to mention, the other teachers are too busy with their own classes at this time of year."

Harry hesitated.

"Go on 'arry! Show 'im what ya got!" Seamus Finnegan called out from the crowd of students. Harry heard some other affirmations from the crowd. Draco smirked at him when he looked over at the Slytherin. Slowly, he nodded.

"Alright." _I have some frustrations to work off anyway._

"Good!" Tom said. "Now, my students," Harry thought Tom must be rather proud to be able to say that. "I need you to stand back against this wall. I will put a shield in front of you, since this will be different and a bit more dangerous than what we were doing before."

Shortly after Tom had the students situated, he and Harry moved to the center of the room and pulled their wands into their hands. They bowed slightly to one another and then settled into their stances.

"No Unforgivables. That's the only limit, although striking to kill is obviously not very nice. I don't want to lose this lovely post before the first week is even over, after all." Tom said quietly, so that only they could hear.

"Hah! You were the one who cursed the position." Harry laughed as he watched for a tell-tale twitch of Tom's hand or eye.

"That was only to keep someone from becoming overly comfortable with my post."

"Right." Harry replied sarcastically.

"_Avifors!_" Tom suddenly shouted with a flick of his wand, sending a flock of birds in Harry's direction.

"_Carpe Retractum!_" Harry made a lasso-like motion with his wand, grabbing the birds and turning them around to send them back in Tom's direction. He followed it with a freezing charm, before Tom could once again turn the conjured birds on him. The birds turned into darts of ice, flying at Tom.

Tom rolled under the projectiles and came up with his wand in position. Harry suddenly wondered who had made Tom his new wand, but lost that trail of thought when he saw another spell flying at him. "_Incarcerous!_"

Harry dropped to his hands and knees to avoid the ropes that suddenly came at his face and kicked himself forward and off the ground. "_Fumos!_" He called. Then, as the smoke billowed out from his wand and darkened, he suddenly changed directions and immersed himself in the smoke shooting a levitating charm at where the man has been. He heard a curse and the counter to his spell, then he heard the tell-tale thump of Tom dropping back onto the ground.

"_Bombarda!_" The red curse shot towards Tom's voice and blew some of the smoke away, but not all.

"_Protego! Inflamara!_" The man yelled. The smoke around them suddenly burst into flame, and Harry quickly muttered the counter spell to _Fumos _to starve the flame of its food, leaving the room clear and Tom and Harry standing almost completely opposite of where they had been.

"_Everte Statum!_" Harry didn't know what the spell was that Tom used, but when he threw up a _Protego_, it worked well enough.

"_Stupefy!_" That spell almost worked, but Tom danced out of the way. "_Impedimenta!_"

"_Confringo!_" Tom shouted, and it burst straight through Harry's second spell. He turned to the side to avoid the blasting curse, and Harry's eyes widened as it passed inches from his nose. He felt blood trickling down his face and tasted it on his lips as he licked them nervously.

"Fine. If you want to play it that way…_Diffindo!_" The cutting curse flew through the air followed by another _stupefy_ and Tom's own spell, _Avifors_, in quick succession. He heard their onlookers gasp. Tom just grinned. With a wave of his wand he set the birds aflame, probably a whispered _Inflamara._ They burned to ashes within for the other two spells, Tom dodged the _Diffindo_ by rolling to the side and he cast a _Protego_ to avoid the S_tupefy_.

Harry raised his wand once again to utter another spell, but Tom was too fast for him and hit him with S_ilencio_. As Harry struggled to remember how to perform the wordless counter charm, Tom darted forward and slid one arm around Harry's neck. Moving behind him, he put his wand to Harry's throat and stung him with a slight stinging hex. Harry glared at the man from the corner of his eye until Tom uttered the counter-charm to _Silencio._

"And that, my dear students, is how a real duel would go, plus a few life-threatening curses and a few more things to hide behind." Tom said before Harry could complain about the stinging hex. Harry raised an eyebrow a bit at the man's words. It sounded as if Tom was trying to convince himself of his own words and get a bit of his pride back for losing all those times in the past, and it nearly made Harry laugh.

"It looked life-threatening enough to me." A student said from the back of the crowd, eyeing Harry's bloody nose, as Tom dropped the protective shield and the students gathered around him.

Harry waved his hand as he wiped his nose with a cloth that Tom handed him. "No, the professor aimed a bit to my side, expecting me to move. I was late in reacting. Plus, I got him back, anyway." He said, gesturing to Tom's torn up robe. That was a lie- at least the bit about Tom aiming to the side of him. He'd just barely avoided something that had a definite potential to kill him. But the fact that Tom had trusted his abilities enough to not alter his aim made Harry a little giddy.

"Indeed." Tom said as he lifted his robe to inspect the damage. "It seems I just barely missed your _Diffindo_. Very nice on the _Avifors _charm, by the way. Was that your first time using it?"

"Hmm? Uh, yes. How did you know?" Harry asked, surprised. He'd copied Tom's movements and remembered what had come of the spell the only two times he'd seen it, so he'd decided to give the man a taste of his own medicine.

"The birds were the same color as mine were, and normally, a wizard will change the color to make the spell personal. So I thought you might have copied the spell by sight, which is very good, especially in the middle of a duel." Harry felt a brush rise to his cheeks before he nodded his head in thanks and turned to join the congregation of students around them.

The students around them murmured interestedly. Tom's lips quirked into a small smile.

"Would all of you like to learn this spell?" There was a general nodding of heads.

"That's good! I will mostly be teaching offensive and defensive spells along with dueling. There will be the odd spattering of lectures about dark and light creatures as well. On a side note, I expect none of that nonsense about dark and light magic, understand? In my classroom, magic is magic and nothing else! You will be learning dark magic and light magic. I have also gotten permission, as one Barty Crouch Jr. has in the past, to teach illegal magic, for the purpose of teaching you to defend yourselves from it. Do not worry; I have heard the whole story from the Headmaster. I do not plan to torture spiders in front of you or practice the magic on you, but I believe you should know what the real world holds. Don't you agree?"

Harry though Tom had a way of involving the people who listened to him in his plans, as if they had helped him decide what to do personally. He had a charisma that made anyone want to hear him out, and, even in a body that was not his own, he had a slick smile that could draw you into his ambitions and make you do whatever he wanted. So, even though he was telling them all that he was going to do the exact same thing a convicted murderer had done a few years before, his students just nodded eagerly.

"Alright then, off you go to your next class. Your assignment is simple. I want a half-foot on the three Unforgivables. Tell me what they are, what they're about, and anything else you think is relevant. If you have a personal experience with the curse, feel free to share. If you make it a foot long, you'll get extra credit on the first test." Tom said as the students began to gather their bags and leave.

Harry stayed behind and waved Draco on when the boy sent him a questioning look. Harry shook his head with a smile and said, "I'll tell you later." Draco nodded and left for his next class, while Harry moved towards Tom. When the man turned to look over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow, Harry frowned disapprovingly.

"Was the stinging-hex really necessary?"

Tom laughed.


	10. Chapter 10

**So...It's been entirely too long since I've updated any of my stories. I'm sorry. To make up for this, this chapter is almost twice as long it usually is. Enjoy and tell me how you like it please. ^.^**

**10**

Harry didn't have any more classes that day, so he stayed in the DADA classroom, gaining a puzzled look from Tom, who was already hard at work grading papers. He spent about ten minutes completing Tom's, or rather, Professor Hostes', assignment, making sure to list in detail the many experiences he'd had with the three unforgivable curses. With much sarcasm, of course. Once done, he laid the three-foot long piece of parchment on Tom's desk and waited for the man to be done with the paper he was on.

After a few more seconds, Tom looked eyed the parchment Harry had laid down then looked up at the author of it.

"I'm not going to enjoy reading that, am I?" Tom asked with a raised eyebrow.

Harry smiled. "You think so? I thought it was pretty good, myself. Just remember that you asked for it."

"Yes, and I'm beginning to wish I hadn't." Tom shook his head slowly. "No, nevermind. What are you still doing here anyway? Don't you have something else to do? Class? Homework? Sleep?"

"Well, I don't have any more classes today, and I just finished my homework. And Dumbledore sentenced me to do whatever you want me to do for any free periods I have."

"What?" Tom asked, surprised.

"Yeah. Draco told you where I was, right?" Tom nodded. "Well, Hermione and Ron were up there, too. Presumably to get me to make up with them, though he didn't really try that. He told me that, until I stop lying, I will do what you want me to during free periods once I have completed any and all homework assignments. So, if you were still my enemy, he just signed a free 'Unlimited torturing, maiming, and/or killing of Harry Potter' pass for the rest of this year, I think."

"It's a good thing I am not your enemy then, now isn't it?" Tom smirked. "Well, then, since you are to do what you are told, you have two options. One, go and rest. Or, two, tell me what you are going to do, and where, so I can think up an excuse for the old codger if he comes by."

Harry laughed. "You know I can help you grade papers or something, right?"

Tom waved him off. "Nonsense. I am almost done, anyway." Harry smiled and tilted his head to the side, thinking. After a moment, his face brightened, then he glared at the desk Tom sat at, then he frowned.

"Alright, but I might need your help to do it." He said finally.

"What are you planning?"

"I want to go to Gringotts."

Tom grinned.

**xXx**

"Well, if I'd known that, I wouldn't have bothered using that nasty tunnel to get to Hogsmeade all the time."

Harry had just, thanks to Tom's suggestion, flooed his way to Gringotts by way of the Room of Requirement. He had known that the floos and all apparition points were monitored and sometimes blocked at Hogwarts, so he'd given up on that idea from the start. But Tom had explained that the Room of Requirement was 'off the grid', although those weren't Tom's exact words.

Now, Harry made his way from a room apparently designated for floo transportation, through the door on the opposite side of the room. Expecting to see the normal main hall, as he had every time he'd walked in the front doors, he was surprised to see one large desk that accommodated three goblins he was pretty sure he had never met before.

"Ah, welcome Mister Potter." One of them greeted him promptly, surprising him, since he'd been ready to wait like he had the first time. He wasn't really surprised they knew his name, though, since he'd come to the conclusion that goblins knew their job and did it well, even if they were known to be a bit greedy. Which made him confused as to why he had the need to be here in the first place.

"Good afternoon." He greeted, determined not to get on the bad side of the magical creature in front of him. "I need to speak with Griphook about my vault."

The goblin looked mildly surprised, from what Harry could tell, that he remembered the name of the goblin who had helped him previously, like so few wizards bothered about anymore, but said nothing and merely nodded towards a small seating area off to the side and around the corner that Harry hadn't seen when he'd come in.

"Griphook is with another account-holder at the moment. He'll be just a moment, unless you want someone else to help you?" The goblin raised an eyebrow in question.

Harry shook his head with a small smile playing at his lips. "No thanks, I can wait."

He sat down in a chair in the seating area and observed the going-ons. Two more wizards came through from the way Harry had come, but he didn't recognize them and they spoke in foreign languages to the goblins at the desk when they reached it. They were ushered into different areas.

It took about ten minutes for Griphook to arrive.

"Mr. Potter, what can I do for you?"

"I'd like my account to be checked for theft." He could have sworn the goblin's eyes widened to about twice their original.

"Who do you think is stealing from you?" Griphook asked as he gestured for Harry to follow him. They walked down a long, tall hall which had doors on both sides about every four feet. Griphook opened the last door on the right and allowed Harry to walk in first and sit down in one of the two chairs in front of the goblin's desk.

"Albus Dumbledore." Harry replied once the door to the office was shut and Griphook was seated.

"Ah, I see." The goblin didn't look the slightest bit surprised, though Harry hadn't really expected him to be.

"Can you help me?" He asked.

"Of course. That is my job, after all." Harry could have sworn that Griphook grinned at him just then, but a moment later, the goblin's face showed nothing of the sort. Harry smiled in relief. Maybe he could finally do something to fix the issues in his life for once.

Griphook looked at the papers on his desk, some of which, Harry noticed, had his name on them.

"These are your bank records. Statements of when money has been withdrawn from your account remotely or when you have come in person to receive it-" Griphook took a breath to continue, but Harry interrupted him.

"But I've never withdrawn money remotely. I didn't even know you could do that, actually."

Griphook looked alarmed at that, so Harry continued more quickly.

"The only time I've gotten money, besides coming to get it myself, was when Dumbledore gave it to me. Speaking of which, I want to know how he has access to my accounts, too."

"Yes, but Mr. Dumbledore has never come in to get money from your accounts." Griphook said, suddenly seeming anxious, but there was a tinge of something else he couldn't identify. "The only times he has come into Gringotts were to draw money from his own accounts."

Harry blinked and looked down at his lap, pressing his fingertips to his temples, trying to alleviate his growing headache. "Then how…"

"Don't worry about that, Mr. Potter. I only mention that because, if what I think has happened is right, then Mr. Dumbledore has done something far more serious that mere theft."

Harry's eyes widened at Griphook's near-evil tone. When he looked up, the goblin looked furious. His eyes were narrowed and his taloned fingers were tightly clenched into fists. If it weren't for his raging curiosity or the fact that he'd come face to face with far more intimidating figures, he might have slowly gotten up and backed his way out of the room.

"What exactly do you think he has done?" Harry instead asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I think he has committed fraud to receive permission from Gringotts to draw funds remotely. Fraud here, Mr. Potter, is not what it is in the Human world." Griphook started to explain. Although Harry wasn't sure why he felt the need to do so, he was thankful he didn't have to ask. He wasn't at all sure why fraud was such a serious matter as to work Griphook into such a rage.

"In Gringotts, to receive permission to draw funds remotely, a patron of the bank must either come to the bank in person to request such a service or send a letter that is sealed with both their magic and personal family seal. In this case, Dumbledore-" Harry noticed the lack of the title "Mr." this time as Griphook practically spit the name out in his irritation. Griphook picked up a piece of paper that still had the remnants of a red seal on the outside of it and waved it slightly in front of him. "He has obtained some of your magic and your seal. He has apparently also mimicked your handwriting."

Griphook took the parchment in his hand and put it next to some parchment that Harry recognized as a piece of parchment he'd signed on all his visits into Gringotts. A receipt for a withdrawal, he remembered. His signatures were the same on both papers, but he didn't remember ever writing the request letter.

Harry's temper flared. Dumbledore took his magic and forged his signature. It was expected and still completely infuriating.

"How do I cut off his access to my vaults?" He asked.

"I can go through some channels to get it done, but it won't be quick." Griphook said slowly, and Harry could tell that it pained him to speak those words. "We don't take fraud here lightly, but you picked the wrong time to bring it to light. Gringotts' director, the Goblin King, is conducting an inspection of the bank. Until that's over, I can't do much of anything. If I had been the one to give permission for his access, I could fix this more easily, but I wasn't in charge of your account until just before your first visit."

"What about the Goblin who was?"

"He's dead; an accident with a dragon."

Harry sat very still for a moment, then bowed his head a little in slight commiseration for the goblin's death. "I see."

Griphook gave him a strange look, then snapped his fingers. A piece of paper popped into existence on his desk. "But!" Griphook exclaimed, startling Harry. "What I can do is freeze your account."

"And that'll stop his access until we can repeal his access." Harry said with a grin. He nodded in agreement and signed the proffered paper without further delay. The moment he took his pen from the paper, though, he sat back in his seat and sighed.

"Is there any way to get back the money he's taken? Or at least find out where it's gone?" He asked.

Griphook nodded as he filed the newly signed paper with the others and rifled through them. "Yes, Mr. Potter, that is easy enough to find out, but it will take about an hour for our assistants to catalogue everything that's missing."

"That's just fine." Harry laughed. "Faster than I would have expected, anyway. Can I go down and see my vault in the meantime?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter. But first, I was wondering if you would like to take care of a few things."

"Sure, what are they?" Harry asked, puzzled.

"Ah, well. You see, it's my mistake…" Griphook actually sounded nervous. His hands flattened out the creases that folds had left in the paper he held. "You're parents left a will and it seems that everything has been carried out except for the matter of your emancipation."

"They asked for me to be emancipated?" Harry asked, excited.

"Yes. Truly, this should have been done last year, when you turned fifteen, but… I must have somehow overlooked it. However, we can do it now, before you go down to see your vault. I apologize for my mistake. I'm sure it would have saved you much trouble; especially in these dealings with Dumbledore."

"It's fine, Griphook." Harry said with a grin. "That's the best news I've heard in a long while."

"I'm glad to hear it." Griphook replied, apparently relieved that Harry hadn't gotten mad. Then he rifled again through his pile of papers and pulled out another. "Now, you just need to sign this form and let me hold your wand for a few moments."

Harry signed the paper and hesitantly gave the goblin his wand.

"I will take off the trace on your wand. Any wards for underage magic will no longer pick up on your magical signature." Griphook said as he moved his hands up and down the wand.

"What about at Hogwarts? Will I be able to use magic there?"

"No. Unfortunately, unless you're a teacher there, all magic being done is kept track of, since many students are legal adults in the higher years." Griphook's hands stilled and he handed Harry back his wand. "To finalize the document, press the tip of your wand to the paper. It would be best if we had your seal, but I'm assuming the Dumbledore has kept any knowledge of it from you."

"Right." Harry answered. When he pressed his wand to a spot next to his signature, he was surprised as a bright, luminous, silver color flowed from his wand to the paper and formed the shape of his Patronus, a stag.

"It's…" He started, and Griphook picked up his sentence.

"Your Patronus. Yes. Most witches and wizards tend to use it as their signature inadvertently."

"Well, at least that's one thing that's normal about me." Harry grumbled.

"Haha." Griphook surprised Harry by giving a low gravelly laugh. "Just so, Mr. Potter. Now, why don't I get you a guide to go see your vault while I finalize your emancipation?"

"Sounds good to me." Harry replied with a grin.

**xXx**

Upon leaving the cart, Harry had to pause to get his bearings. He liked the method of travel in Gringotts and all, but he had a hard time getting his balance afterwards, strangely enough, considering his talent in quidditch.

Harry was escorted by a diminutive assistant goblin, who had none of the cold expression Harry was used to seeing on most of the bank's tellers, but was rather aloof. The goblin's expression almost reminded him of that boy, Blaise, who hung around with Draco a lot. The goblin certainly had no talkative tendencies, and Harry hadn't heard anything but "This way, sir" since Griphook had directed him to guide Harry to his vault.

That same Goblin was already halfway to the end of the long walkway, which was open on one side so as to be able to access the cart. Of course, the rails that guided the cart were merely suspended in mid-air, over a dark, pitch-black chasm. Harry kept a hand on the wall on the other side of the walk-way as he started off the follow in his guide's wake. The darkness was beginning to get unsettling. He wasn't afraid of the dark or anything, but any combination of darkness, cold temperatures, and loneliness brought back bad memories.

Further ahead, he could hear voices in the gloom. He skipped his hand over a vault to avoid setting off any traps that may have been on it. He couldn't see his guide anymore, but he could just barely see the little bob of light from the lantern the goblin had carried from the cart. At least, he hoped that was his guide. He'd lost sight of the goblin at one point when he'd stumbled over something, and he might have turned off somewhere. They'd come down a different way than he remembered, so he couldn't be sure he was going the right way or following the right person.

The voices he heard came from maybe three people; or goblins, judging by the guttural language he could hear. He was getting close to the group, and he'd just decided to call out for their attention when he tripped again, his foot caught by a rock jutting out from the ground.

"Shit!" he growled as he righted himself. The rarely voiced curse shot from his mouth unbidden, and he stilled as he realized the other voices had quieted, probably in reaction to his sudden exclamation. Suddenly nervous, Harry called out.

"Hello? I'm lost, I think. Can you help me?"

There was a mumble from the group and then a figure appeared from the gloom. It was a goblin, and Harry was startled to see that he was armored and held a long staff with a blade at the top. He would have been tempted to call it a spear, but the blade reminded Harry of a weapon he had seen in a storage room containing quite a few weapons in Hogwarts (A rather stupid thing to leave unwarded around masses of children). When Harry had later asked one of the castle's ghosts, since he hadn't felt like getting a lecture from Hermione about his ignorance on the subject, the ghost had said it was a halberd.

"Who are you?" The goblin asked gruffly.

"I'm Harry Potter." He answered, making sure his hands were visible, with his palms facing outward, away from his wand. The goblin looked awfully uptight.

"What are you doing down here?"

"Griphook sent me down here with a guide to go see my vault, but we got separated." Harry understood the necessity for the questions, since without a guide he was basically an intruder in the bank, and he tried to keep from fidgeting.

"Is that so?" A deep, rich voice drifted from the darkness further down the walkway. Another goblin appeared with two more guards in tow. He wore a fine deep red cloak, which looked almost black when the light from the lamp a guard behind him held shone upon it. The cloak was closed, but the only other thing Harry could see, a large ruby brooch, was clasped at his neck, revealing the fact that the goblin was not someone unimportant. Harry just got an air of regality from the goblin, and he was surprised there was nothing else on his person to show off more finery, as all the goblins he had seen so far had been wont to do.

Griphook had said the goblin king was at Gringotts; maybe this was part of his entourage? Harry couldn't imagine that the king himself would be wandering around in the bowels of the bank with little more than a lamp and three guards. At least that's what he hoped. He didn't really feel like meeting an important person today.

"Yes, sir." Harry said with a nod of his head, not sure if he should acknowledge a lord of another race as much as he would his own. The guard who had first approached Harry fell in behind and to the right of the lord, just in front of the other two guards.

"Alright, Mr. Potter, you can follow us to my next destination, and then we will someone to lead you to your vault."

"I would appreciate that, sir." Harry said, sighing with relief.

"Call me Bruzon, Mr. Potter." The goblin said with a sharp-toothed smile. Harry returned it.

"Well then, please call me Harry." The hairs on the back of his neck rose as he took the place to the right of Bruzon and his back was turned to the guards. He didn't like the looks the other two guards had been giving him. His instincts, as much as they had relaxed once he'd gotten away from the almost smothering darkness, were making his muscles tense from a feeling of danger. The only things he didn't feel that vibrating edge of danger from were the first guard and Bruzon. He fought to keep his hand from inching towards his wand.

"So, Harry, you go to Hogwarts?" Bruzon asked, obviously noting Harry's uniform's cloak and the insignia on it. Thankfully, he kept away from the topic of his business at the bank. Harry didn't particularly want to dwell on it for the moment. He was also surprised that the goblin seemingly hadn't recognized his name. But then again, they likely lived in completely different worlds, what with the laws imposed upon magical creatures by the wizarding world. He decided to enjoy his anonymity while it lasted.

"Yes, I am." Harry nodded with a grin.

"What year?"

"Sixth."

"Really? You look younger than that." Bruzon commented as they walked. Harry still trailed his hand along the wall, but Bruzon walked as if there weren't an unfathomable drop just a few, shuffling steps to his left. They passed by a cart, and Harry thought it was the one he'd ridden to get here. They kept walking.

The guards behind them stayed silent, but Harry still had to push his instinctive reaction back from the forefront of his mind. Years of fighting for his life made him yearn to draw his wand, but he settled for keeping his muscles achingly tensed, ready to move at any moment. He kept darting looks at Bruzon, but the goblin didn't seem to notice anything out of place. Maybe the danger was directed solely at him?

"Really? I haven't really noticed that before." Harry replied almost absent-mindedly. He slid his hands into his pockets, finally deciding that the goblins could attack him if they wanted, but he'd be able to defend himself if he needed to. The guards didn't react, though, thankfully.

"Yes. You-" Bruzon didn't get a chance to finish what he was saying. They were just turning a corner, a sudden drop that Harry would have kept walking straight into had he not had a hand on the wall next to him, when the two goblin guards Harry had been wary of let out battle cries. The noise was so sudden in the quiet around them that Harry was shocked to stillness.

That momentary lapse in movement proved fatal. The rasp of blades behind him made him spin around just in time to see one of the attacking goblins' swords plunge into the chest of the third guard, the one who had first hailed Harry. The tip emerged from the goblin's back. Everything was still then.

The other goblin snarled something in what Harry supposed was Gobbledegook to Bruzon. Regaining his wits at the sudden confrontation, the goblin snapped something back at him. Harry then noticed something. There was another light approaching them from both ends of the walkway they had been travelling. The two goblins were not alarmed. Harry guessed that they were reinforcements; at least twenty in total from the sounds of the footsteps. Since Harry had been a surprise guest, they were obviously after Bruzon.

With all these goblins after him, Harry was willing to bet that Bruzon was no simple goblin lord. No, Harry was lucky enough to be in the presence of the Goblin King. In the middle of either his murder or his kidnapping.

Furthermore, he noticed that Bruzon had no weapon. It seemed that Harry was his only chance.

"Your Majesty." Harry said quietly. Bruzon dared a glance back at Harry, not surprised at the new honorific coming from Harry's mouth. Just as quickly, he looked back at the ever nearing guards. The one who had stabbed the third guard had jerked his sword from the goblin's chest, leaving him to sink to the stony floor, gurgling noises emerging from his throat.

"Get behind me." Harry continued quietly.

"Boy, you can do nothing about this. You should run while they will still let you." Bruzon replied. It was strange, how Harry's anger flared at that simple statement. By all rights, it should have been true. He was still a student and had only just attained status as a legal adult. But he'd fought for every year he'd lived and he'd be damned if he'd let a murder take place right in front of his eyes.

He wrapped his hand around the Goblin King's arm and jerked the goblin behind him. The expression on the king's face would probably have been hilarious had he bothered to watch it. Instead he drew his wand and straightened his back, pointing it at the two goblins as menacingly as he could. For the hell of it, deciding it couldn't hurt, Harry held his wand in the grip he'd seen Tom hold his. His hand curled around the handle of the wand at the top, his pointer finger resting lazily on the top edge of it, the tip pointed down, and his wrist tilted up. Whenever he'd seen Tom draw his wand, he had almost looked condescending, as if any flick of his wand would be the end of the recipient of any spell. And, most times, it was.

"Leave now. I'm warning you." Harry said.

Predictably, the goblins only laughed. They held their swords out, approaching Harry and Bruzon from two sides as Harry backed them up towards the wall.

"Do you want them alive?" Harry asked Bruzon. He'd never thought he'd ask such a cold question, but he knew there was no way for them to get out of the situation without the death of at least one of the treacherous goblins.

"If you think you can take them out, be my guest." Bruzon murmured. At that, Harry spun his wand in a quick circle.

"_Confringo_." He said under his breath. Not expecting it, and having no defense against it, the goblin on his right flew backwards. He landed on the walkway just shy of the edge, but Harry was sure he wouldn't be getting up anytime soon, judging from the blood spatter that had landed in a few spots on his cheek. He grimaced before turning to the other goblin.

"Die!" The goblin yelled in mangled English, making it sound more like 'Dah!' than anything else.

"_Stupefy!_" Harry just had time to realize the spell hadn't affected the goblin in any way before turning out another _Confringo_ spell. This time, as the goblin flew backwards over the edge of the walkway, Harry could see the fear in his eyes. His sword clattered to the ground as he fell into the darkness without a sound.

Bruzon came out from behind Harry to pick up the fallen sword. "The one day I forget my sword." He said with little inflection in his voice. He didn't seem as shocked by the traitors' attack as Harry thought he probably should have been.

Regardless of the riddance of the immediate threat, the two of them were still trapped between two groups of enemy goblins.

"Why are they after you?"

"Besides me being the king?" Bruzon shrugged. "I've made many enemies in my life. Could be any one of them."

"Right. Well. Are you any good with that?" Harry nodded at the sword in Bruzon's hand, suddenly filled with an absurd fearlessness. He realized that this was the first time he'd really had the choice and ability to help someone of his own volition, rather than being on some stupid, suicidal quest.

"Ha!" Bruzon barked out a laugh. "Well enough. It's seems you're fairly talented with that thing, yourself."

"Well enough." Harry grinned. The voices were getting closer, and Harry held out his wand in the direction of what sounded to be the larger group. In the fading light of the lamp that had been dropped, he could see they were almost twenty feet away.

Without giving any warning, Harry swished his wand down in a cutting motion.

"_Incendio!_"

Flames billowed from his wand, engulfing the group heading his way. He heard the rasp of at least a dozen swords being drawn behind him, but trusted Bruzon to hold them away for at least a few moments. Really, how could you get to be the leader of such a violent race without knowing how to handle yourself with a sword?

Two goblins emerged from the fiery torment Harry had sent their way, screaming in their language, and brandishing their swords. Harry shot yet another _Confringo_, and it hit the lead goblin directly in the chest, stopping him in his tracks. He dropped to the ground and the other goblin was forced to jump over the body to reach Harry who brandished his wand-point not centimeters from his attacker's nose.

"_Relashio!_" Red sparks shot into the goblins face and he screamed. "_Incarcerous!_" Still screaming, the goblin flew back into a mass of teaming goblins who were still trying to rid themselves of flames. The ropes that were wrapping around the goblin also managed to catch one or two of the others as well.

Unfortunately, Harry didn't escape injury. The sword that the goblins had been slashing with continued on its path, only slightly altered. Harry withheld a gasp as the blade sliced through his robe and bit deeply into the skin of his right arm.

Hearing the sounds of struggle behind him increase, Harry steeled himself. "_Reducto!" _The blasting curse pushed the group of goblins on Harry's end flying back, some of them tripping over others and going over the edge.

Spinning around, he saw three bodies lying motionless on the ground around Bruzon and the Goblin King fighting furiously with a blade in both hands. The walkway on his side wasn't as wide as it was on Harry's, so he didn't have as many coming at him at once, but he didn't have the destructive capacity that Harry did, and he didn't have the time for any rest. He was beginning to sag with exhaustion even as he fought three goblins at the same time.

Even as he raised his wand again, Harry shouted. "Bruzon! Get down! _Reducto!_" The curse flew only inches above the king's head as he ducked down, parrying a blow even as he did. Five of the goblins flew back, just as the group on Harry's end had, but the others, ones further towards the back, had seen what Harry could do already and ducked down as well.

Harry threw another attack at them as they began to stand. "_Avifors! Inflamara!_" The flaming birds swarmed like insects around the attacking goblins and set them alight even as the goblins cut at them with their blades. The screaming was terrible, but Harry forced himself to watch, darting glances behind him to make sure there were no goblins sneaking up on him. But it seemed as though the fight was over just as quickly as it had begun.

The screams died out. Everything was still for a moment and then Bruzon stabbed the longer of the two swords he held into the ground at his side, heaving a sigh.

"I must apologize, Harry. There seems to have been no need to have implied you could not handle yourself in a fight."  
"It's fine." Harry said tiredly. "I'm used to it."  
"No." Bruzon said firmly, focusing his beady eyes on Harry's. "To my race, implying such is a grave insult. You have earned my respect for staying to assist me. I am sorry."

Harry was silent for a moment at the king's words, and then he bowed his head slightly. "You are forgiven, then."

The goblin gave a nod of approval. "Let us-" Harry had a sense of déjà vu as Bruzon was interrupted again, by another yell. He had yet to move from his place next to the three bodies of the goblins he had taken out. As he turned to face Harry more directly and swept his cloak back to slide his newly claimed sword beneath his belt, one of the three bodies rose up behind him. The traitor goblin clutched an arm around Bruzon's throat and pulled him over the edge of the walkway.

Harry's heart leapt to his throat and he lunged forward to grab at Bruzon. He was forced to drop his wand from his hand to clutch Bruzon's hand. The traitor goblin was still holding onto Bruzon, and Harry felt his wounded arm and shoulder protest at the weight.

"_Ac_-_Accio_ wand!" Harry gasped out as he held out his left hand. Suddenly, his wand was back in hand, and he snapped out a spell. He wasn't sure what it was, as panicked as he was, but it severed the traitor goblin's right arm from his body at the shoulder and sent the goblin screaming to his death followed shortly by his limp arm. Shocked for a moment, Harry drew in a shaky breath, then slowly drew Bruzon back up onto the walkway.

They were quiet for a long while before Bruzon spoke.

"What say you to getting out of these damned tunnels?"

"Let's go." Harry said, pushing out a breath and climbing to his feet.


	11. Chapter 11

**So, I really have to apologize for two things this time. First is for how long this chapter took, and second is for how long I took to respond to your reviews. I usually reply to them the moment I see them, but for some reason, I just kept putting it off again and again. You who reviewed the last chapter should have gotten a reply from me unless you are Reiha Sakurai (here's your new chap, by the way), Cherrie-san (you now have the answer to your guess) or one of the two guests who reviewed, both of which were really enthusiastic and made my day.**

P.S. I really like it when I can PM my reviewers, so if you can take a sec, please make sure it's enabled, K? Or maybe create an account so I can reply and differentiate between all the different guests. :-P

**Anyway, this chapter seemed to come out more as a filler chapter, but I think it's full of a few interesting twists. Tell me how you like it, and I promise that you'll get a reply right away this time! ^.^**

**11**

By the time Harry and Bruzon finally made their way to the surface - or rather, into a cluster of hallways that had the distinct office building look - an alarm of some sort had been set off. Harry was still dizzy from the cart ride back up, and he was also starting to feel the effects of the small battle. The adrenaline was wearing off and blood loss from the injury on his arm was beginning to take a toll.

Bruzon had torn off a piece of one of the traitors' cloaks before they'd left (no need to ruin either of theirs) and had wrapped it tightly around Harry's arm in an attempt to staunch the blood flow. Still, Harry rested his good arm on Bruzon's shoulder for support at the goblin's bidding.

Goblin's swarmed around them as emerald green lights flashed from points on the ceiling spaced along the hallway. There were no bells or horns sounding the alarm and the goblins did their duties in silence, which made the whole scene look surreal. And then the silence was broken as one of the goblins finally noticed their king and a bleeding wizard standing in their midst.

"Your Majesty!" A goblin squeaked out, dropping a stack of papers. Harry rather thought the goblin had sounded like a house elf at that very moment. At the same time, of course, every other goblin in the hall stopped where they stood, frozen. Harry stood uncomfortably. He realized he was hardly the focus of their gaze, but he had never appreciated being even close to the center of attention when he was injured. Not that he liked it much better when he wasn't.

Bruzon snorted quietly, but no one seemed to notice but Harry. "What has happened?" He asked loudly.

Harry raised an eyebrow, wondering why the goblin would be asking that after what had happened not ten minutes before. There were multiple things that could have set off the alarm. An assassination attempt on the King for one, or the King going missing and said assassination attempt being found lying at the bottom of the tunnels and along the route said king was travelling."

"There has been a break in, Sire!" another goblin managed.

Or, Harry mused, there could have been a break in while the King was busy being assassinated. That worked, too. Maybe there were different types of alarms for each type of scenario. That would explain why goblins were running around with stacks of paperwork instead of swords, too. They'd need to figure out what was stolen.

"Of course." Bruzon muttered under his breath. Louder, he said, "I'll take a look at the vault. Which number?"

"It…it wasn't a vault, Sire." The goblin replied hesitantly. "It was Griphook's office. He was injured and some of his files seem to have been taken. We won't know exactly which ones they were until he wakes up, or until we finish going through them all."

"They stole files? How did someone get into the heart of my bank?!" Bruzon asked venomously, suddenly every bit the Goblin King Harry had expected to see if he'd ever met him. Now he suddenly wondered which was the real Bruzon.

The first two goblins that had spoken were cowed by their king's tone. A third spoke up after a moment, but his voice was shaky. "W-we don't know yet, Your Majesty."

Upon hearing Griphook's name, Harry had frozen, but he kept himself from speaking aloud. He had developed a keen understanding of the need for secrecy lately, seeing as the Dark Lord was sitting in a Hogwarts classroom at the moment, grading papers. The cold anger he'd been filled with lately began to run through him once again. He had a feeling he knew exactly what this was about. And he didn't like it one bit.

"Your Majesty…" Harry mumbled, starting to feel light-headed. He needed to sit down. Then he could tell Bruzon about his suspicions. His hand tightened on the king's shoulder as he maintained his balance. Bruzon looked up at him, as if surprised to rediscover Harry's presence, and his mouth parted in surprised remembrance. He started moving briskly down the hall, ignoring stares from the goblins who parted from his path. Harry could barely keep up, despite the advantage he had with his longer stride. The goblin wrapped a brawny arm around Harry's waist and Harry saw some confused glances aimed towards him.

Minutes later found Harry in a large, neat, and simply decorated office, almost like a big-shot businessman's office he had seen once on the Dursleys' TV. Minus the windows, of course. Bruzon shut the door of the office in the face of some goblins who had been scrambling after them after throwing out a multitude of orders, including one to search the tunnels for survivors of their battle – which made the goblins' eyes widen comically – and one to bring a medi-kit. Harry raised his hand to grasp at his injured arm before slowly making his way to one of the two chairs situated in front of Bruzon's desk.

Bruzon, freed from the public eye, trudged over to his own, rather more expensive desk chair, and flopped down into it. He leaned back and let out a frustrated sigh.

"All in a day's work?" Harry asked dryly.

"I can't say that it's the first time that I've been the subject of such attempts," Bruzon started, waving his hand downward vaguely, though Harry understood what he was referring to. "But I _can_ say that this is the first time anyone has successfully stolen documents from these halls."

"Right…er…about that…" Harry started sheepishly. Bruzon raised an eyebrow at him, and, for a moment, the gesture seemed to mimic Severus' usual expression when he demanded answers to his questions. "Well, you see…You remember how I told you that Griphook sent me down to see my vault?"

Bruzon's eyes widened. "You must be…I see. That's why the name seemed so familiar. I saw the papers that requested for your vault to be examined for evidence of theft just before I went down to inspect the tunnels. It was sitting on my desk for an okay. I signed it and sent it back to Griphook."

Harry was almost amused. When Bruzon had begun to speak, he's thought for sure that the goblin had finally realized that Harry was _the_ Harry Potter. But for once, Harry was just another one of the human crowd. And he was going to enjoy it while it lasted.

"Right. I think that it was my file that was stolen, actually."

Bruzon's eyes narrowed. "Why would someone want your information?"

"I think that it was Albus Dumbledore, the man who I was accusing of theft." Harry answered after a beat.

"Well, that wouldn't exactly help him in the long run. We could always replace the information." Bruzon replied.

"Yes, but what if he was trying to gain some time? Maybe build a case to discredit me. It's something he would do."

Bruzon grunted. "We'll find out soon enough. For now, though, I will have my employees place extra attention on the condition of your vaults."

A deep-pitched knock, almost hollow-sounding, came from the door to Bruzon's office. Bruzon called for the person to enter and a harried-looking goblin came in carrying the medi-kit that the king had requested. Bruzon directed the goblin towards Harry and the wizard soon found himself under the ministrations of an apparent physician.

Harry did not get to hear the goblin's name before he left, but he was briefly reminded of Madam Pomfrey's precise motions as a skilled healer.

After only five minutes or so, Harry sat alone with Bruzon in the Goblin King's office. Only now, he was stuffed full with two blood-replenishing potions and his arm was bound up tightly. It appeared that though the goblins had access to potions and such that worked on wizards, they couldn't perform the same wound-closing magics. Right now, the slice on his arm was only just beginning to clot and his arm was held close to his chest by a supporting sling.

"I must thank you, Harry."

The sudden voice that broke the comfortable silence made Harry blink in confusion. "For what?"

Harry could have hit himself for even thinking that question, but Bruzon clarified himself anyway. "For saving my life. I have no doubts that I would be dead if you had not been there."

"I'm glad I was there, then." Harry smiled, rolling his neck stiffly. He was beginning to feel sore, and his arm hurt terribly, but he'd refused a pain potion, knowing that he'd be able to take one of Severus' more potent ones if he only waited a bit longer.

"If there's anything I can ever do…"

"Heh, don't worry about it. I got to meet the Goblin King. _And_ call him by his first name." Harry joked. Having the freedom of anonymity was great, he mused. He could actually meet someone famous and get to be impressed about it!

"Speaking of which, I want you to keep doing so." Bruzon said with a grin. "You've earned the right."

"Alright, then. I think I can manage that. But even in public?" Harry asked with a quizzically raised eyebrow.

Bruzon nodded. "Recognition where recognition is due, I say." He leaned down to reach for something behind his desk and came to his feet with an elegantly crafted sword in hand. He pulled the sword he already had in his belt from it and laid it carefully on his desk before belting on his own blade. Harry was intrigued by the motion. He would have expected the goblin to throw it down in disgust. Bruzon say his expression as he fumbled with the buckle for a moment.

"When a goblin claims a blade in battle, it becomes his own. We must treat it with respect. I have many such blades in my home."

"I'd imagine." Harry said quietly, eying the sword. He nodded and stood stiffly. "Are we going to see Griphook?"

"For a human, you catch on fast." Harry snorted. "Yes, I am. But are you sure you are well enough? You can go back to your school to rest. Or stay here if you wish."

Harry shook his head. "No. No, it's alright. If Griphook got hurt because of my files, I want to be sure he will be alright in person."

"Alright, then. Follow me." Bruzon then proceeded out his door and down the hall at a brisk walk, with Harry on his heels.

**xXx**

"Severus, have you heard from Harry?"

If he had been anyone else, Severus would have jumped out of his skin at the sudden, barked question. As it was, he flinched harshly and turned a glare on his former 'master'. Tom had just thrown open the door to his private potions lab, risking a possible explosion, as Severus was making a very complicated potion.

"What are you _thinking_, Tom?" Severus hissed, uncaring that the man he was speaking to had once been a terror to the whole wizarding world. As a matter of fact, he still _was_, depending on who you talked to. "One wrong move and this potion could-"

"Sorry." Tom apologized distractedly. He crossed the room in three strides, placing both hands on the table that Severus had placed his cauldron on. "Harry is gone."

"What?" Severus narrowed his eyes. He finished what he was doing and then placed a stasis charm on the cauldron. He moved around the table and came face to face with the Dark Lord. "Explain."

Tom was apparently too worried to notice Severus' tone, which was something that concerned the potions master in and of itself. Thankfully, it wasn't the normal type of worry you'd expect from anyone else, where they would be freaking out, yelling, crying, or all of the above. But Tom's form of worrying included brooding silence and a frustrating lack of real information as he used Severus as a sounding board for his inner thoughts.

After five minutes of getting only small scraps of information and lots of silence, Severus was seriously tempted to use legilimency. Then Tom suddenly snapped out of his ruminating thoughts and exited Severus' lab without a word, leaving Severus to hurry after his trailing robes.

"Tom! What is going on?!" Severus growled. Again he received no answer, but he saw that Tom was directing his path towards Severus' fireplace. When he reached it, he finally spoke.

"I'm going to Gringotts to bring Harry back. He left to go there early this afternoon and hasn't returned." With that, Tom was gone.

Severus snorted. He supposed he should wait here since Tom hadn't ordered him to come as well. But then, he didn't have to listen to Tom anymore, did he? With a smirk, he retrieved his personalized medi-kit and flooed to Gringotts.

If he knew Harry Potter at all, which he did, the boy would be needing some medical attention by the time they got there.

**xXx**

Not five minutes later found Harry and Bruzon in a miniature hospital wing. Harry supposed that the goblins needed medical attention every now and then, too, so he wasn't too surprised at the existence of such a place, though he wasn't sure where he'd expected Griphook to be.

The goblin, who Harry had really begun to think of as an ally if not a friend, was indeed laying on one of the six beds that filled the room. Only one other of the beds were filled, but Harry didn't pay any attention to that patient, heading straight towards Griphook's bed. He heard Bruzon's steps close behind him.

Griphook was still asleep. It wasn't a wonder why, either. He was covered in bandages, starting at his right ear, then his throat. His arms, which were left uncovered by the crude hospital gown he wore, were also wrapped in the white cloth. Harry could see one foot, which had come uncovered at some point, and was also bandaged. Harry pulled the large hospital blanket back down over Griphook's foot with a sort of horrified deference.

"Holy…" Harry choked on his next words, which likely would have not been polite at all. Bruzon grasped Harry's uninjured arm and pulled him back and away a short distance from the bed. About a minute later, Harry realized that they were standing next to what he could only guess was the doctor for the ward. He turned his eyes away from Griphook and listened to their conversation.

"…covered in long scratches and cuts, grouped in fours. Claw marks most likely. I haven't heard of a wizarding spell that can imitate such damage."

"That's because there isn't." Harry jumped and turned around to look at the doorway to the hospital wing with wide eyes. There stood Tom and Severus. He gulped as he saw the both of them eying his injured arm with nearly-identical raised eyebrows. Thankfully though, Tom turned his attention back to the goblin doctor and he and Severus came further into the room.

"Claw marks are unnecessary when you can use a simpler spell to create one slice. There are no spells that could create such organized wounds."

Harry almost expected the doctor to challenge Tom's expertise, but he underestimated the goblins' uncanny ability to just _know_ and person's identity. The doctor merely nodded.

"Ah, I see. Thank you, Mr. Riddle."

Tom nodded in acknowledgement of the thanks and then turned to nod far more deeply at Bruzon, who inclined his head slightly. Harry supposed that Tom knew that Bruzon was the Goblin King, though he wasn't sure how. Severus copied Tom's motions and came up with a question on his lips.

"What has happened here?" Severus drawled, looking at Harry's injured arm once again.

"Umm…well…" Harry tried to think of a way to explain, but couldn't quite manage. He looked to Bruzon, who took up the question.

"Harry and I met in the tunnels, just before I became the target of an assassination." Tom and Severus snorted, and though Bruzon looked curious and amused at their reactions, he continued. "We fought them off and returned here, only to find that Harry's financial manager had been attacked and that some files have been found missing."

Harry thought that the whole situation had been seriously understated, but saw that Tom and Severus grasped the importance of the happenings easily. They both focused their gazes on Griphook and made their way over to him.

"Harry, was it Dumbledore?" Tom asked quickly. Bruzon answered before Harry could.

"We will not know anything for sure until we have catalogued all of the files in Griphook's office. I have been told that his attacker left quite a mess to clean up; Griphook's desk was completely broken in half."

That was the first Harry had heard about that. But he supposed it wasn't necessary information. Griphook continued.

"Though if it was indeed Harry's files that were taken, I am not sure it was Albus Dumbledore." Tom looked up, surprised.

"Why not?"

"Well, I was under the impression that Dumbledore did not employ the services of magical creatures. With the exception of house elves, of course." Bruzon said. Harry suddenly noticed that the doctor that had been with them had disappeared. He berated himself. He should be more observant.

"No. He doesn't have any qualms about that." Tom said with a scowl. He pulled back the edges of one of the bandages to take a closer look at the scratches. "He only says he does. He even has a werewolf on his side."

Harry found himself becoming a little defensive at the tone Tom had used when he referred to Remus. "Remus wouldn't do anything like this!" Harry exclaimed. He was a bit discomforted as three pairs of eyes were drawn to him. Tom nodded in slow agreement.

"You're right, Harry. It was just an example. These marks look like a vampire's work, anyway." Tom said. He fixed the bandages that he had undone and moved more towards the head of the bed, by Griphook's head. He had already reached up to open one eye before Harry realized what the man was doing. He moved towards the man without really thinking about what he was doing and pulled Tom's arm back.

For a moment, no one moved, and Harry suddenly realized who exactly he was interfering with. He tried his best not to show his sudden anxiety. He looked around, avoiding Tom's gaze, and saw that Bruzon had a rather surprised expression on his face, while Severus seemed to be trying to avoid looking at him and Tom at all, for fear of letting a laugh escape. Harry tried his best to avoid the slight fear that was boiling up in the pit of his stomach. He decided to explain himself.

"You can't. He doesn't deserve to have his memories carded through. We can wait until he wakes up."

"And if Albus doesn't afford us the time to wait?" Harry tried to ignore the sharpness in the voice of the man whose arm he still held firmly. But then, he didn't have an answer for Tom. He just knew it wouldn't be right to invade Griphook's privacy like that. Not after he had helped Harry so much.

"I…" He started, but Bruzon interrupted him.

"Why don't we do _this_? We can interrogate _him_." Tom, Harry, and Severus all turned to look in the direction that Bruzon pointed. Harry saw that the goblin's bony finger was aimed at the exact bed that he had almost completely ignored earlier when they had come in. Now that he really looked at it, though, he could see that the goblin that laid in it was actually chained to the hospital bed. Not tied with that comfortable little bit of leather that regular hospitals used. No. They were full-out cast-iron chains.

Harry felt Tom shift and finally looked up at the man. He scowled at Harry's hand, and Harry quickly released the man's arm. "It would have been helpful had you mentioned that sooner, Goblin King."

Bruzon grinned, taking no offense at the gruff tone. "And had I known you wished to use mind magic in my halls, I might have."

Harry saw Tom grimace. "Touché." He said. Harry guessed that doing such a thing was…improper in Gringotts. Well, that was helpful to know.

"Well, shall we get on with it?" Harry nearly smiled at Severus' impatient tone. As they walked over, Harry stole a glance at Tom again. Just as soon, he looked away. Tom was giving him an amused look. But that couldn't quite describe the exact expression on the man's face. It just made him feel uneasy. He didn't think he wanted to go back to Hogwarts with the man quite yet. He sighed under his breath and forced himself to calm down.

By the time Harry got a good view of the goblin, he realized that he recognized him. It was the same goblin who had managed to slice his arm open. The one he had blinded and tied up with ropes in the middle of Bruzon's attempted assassination.

A stream of milky white fluid was slowly streaming from the goblin's eyes, and when Tom opened his eyelids, his eyes were unfocused.

"Well. That's inconvenient." Tom and Severus grumbled near simultaneously. Harry would have laughed, but he had a sinking feeling. Legilimency wouldn't work because the goblin couldn't see.

"Umm…sorry." Harry mumbled.

"What?" Tom asked, turning to Harry.

"What's wrong?" Bruzon asked, eyes narrowed. Tom pulled his attention off of Harry to answer the question.

"We can't use legilimency if the subject cannot see. There must be a visual connection. Now, what are you apologizing for, Harry?"

"I, well, I was the one who, umm, blinded him." Harry didn't explain any further, busy berating himself in his own mind for blinding the goblin when he could have just as easily blasted him away.

"What? How?!"

"Harry helped me fight off my would-be assassins, as I told you earlier. This was the only one found alive when my goblins went back down to search at my order. This was one of the ones that Harry took care of."

"Really? How many were there?" Tom sounded interested now, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief that the man's focus was off of getting information from the goblin.

"Perhaps thirty altogether." Bruzon answered. Tom and Severus' eyes widened appreciatively at the feat of the two against thirty victory. Bruzon continued, though, and Harry found himself blushing from the obvious praise. "I only took out eight, though. Harry took care of the rest. They either died going over the edge of the path or got killed on it. Harry here saved my life!" Bruzon slapped a strong hand to Harry's back, still careful of his arm, and Harry found himself grinning and shaking his head at the king in front of him.

"Indeed." Tom said musingly. "I will have to hear the story in its entirety soon. But for now, what shall we do?" It sounded strange to hear Tom poll for advice, but he said it easily enough. Harry was the first to answer and a short silence.

"Can't we heal his eyes?" He asked.

"Our healer can get him something right away. But I don't know how well it will work." Bruzon said.

Severus moved to the other side of the bed, opposite Tom, and lifted an eyelid to survey the damage. He turned to Harry. "What spell did you use?"

"Relashio." He said after a moment of thought.

"Then it shouldn't take too long." Severus said. "Two days at most. The only problem is that his retinas are burned from such a sudden bright flash."

"Should we come back then, Bruzon?" Harry asked. The goblin nodded.

"Yes. And by then we will know which files have been stolen."

"Right. Thanks. Can you send an owl to tell me when Griphook wakes up?" He was aware that he was overriding Tom's thoughts on the matter, but he wanted to distract him from the option of invading Griphook's mind for as long as possible. He could always change his mind, after all.

"Yes. Go back to Hogwarts and rest, Harry. We'll take care of the clean-up here." It was a clear dismissal of all three of them when Bruzon turned to walk toward the doctor they had spoken to before, who was across the room, writing something.

Harry started walking towards the door. He stiffened when a hand dropped softly onto his shoulder. When he looked up, he was glad to see Severus' face, instead of Tom's, looking down at him as they walked.

"Go out the door and to the right, then go into the first door on the left that you see." Harry realized belatedly, once he was halfway down the hallway they'd stepped into, that Severus had been giving him instructions that would lead them to a room with four fireplaces in it. The man spoke softly. "I hope you know what you are doing. He may not be crazy now, but he still isn't all that merciful."

Harry shivered. Severus had been helping him from making a fool of himself by giving him the directions. If he'd had to relinquish the lead to Tom, it would have made him lose ground in the battle of wills that he was nearly sure would follow once they stepped into Severus' rooms.

When they approached the fireplace, Severus grabbed a handful of powder and flooed to his chambers. Without giving Tom a chance to speak, Harry hurried after him. Just before he was taken away to the Potion Master's den, Harry caught a glimpse of a rather predatory expression on Tom's face.

He wondered why, at that moment, he couldn't bring himself to be scared. It was like everything was back to normal. He really hoped Tom hadn't seen the challenging grin that spread across his face.

It would only get him into trouble, after all.


	12. Chapter 12

**So, once again, I'm really late in updating, but I have reasons. Lol. I'm working full-time now and I'm a full-time student, so, yeah, I'm a bit busy. But, anyway, this chapter is a bit longer than the others, to make up for my absence. **

**I know it's been a while, so if any of you want a summary, just tell me, and I'll try to write one up, ok?**

**But, besides that, I hope you enjoy the chapter. ^.^**

**12**

Harry was completely sure that the majority of the trouble he got into was not his fault. On the other hand, somehow he was very sure that he'd created this mess all on his own.

It was certainly past curfew now, and no one was up and about, it seemed, but them. The castle had taken on that deserted, slightly haunted feel that Harry had always basked in. His walks around the castle had allowed him knowledge of the castle that not many others knew, and it had always been beneficial to his mood when he'd felt smothered and surrounded by too many people. Now, it somewhat comforted him, even though Tom, sitting across from him with a tea-cup in hand, obviously meant to make him feel otherwise.

He sat in Tom's personal chambers, in a sort of den, on a couch near the fireplace. The man had dragged him from Severus' own chambers the moment he'd staggered from the floo and shoved him all the way here. Up three deserted staircases and two secret passageways Tom hadn't said a word, and Harry wondered exactly which of the things he'd done since this afternoon had caused the predatory glare Tom was giving him right now.

There were a couple of things, after all.

"Explain."

That was the only word that hissed past Tom's lips, almost like Parseltongue in its reptilian nature. Harry felt goose-bumps rise on his arms, and he fought to hide a shiver and he wondered what was wrong with him. He felt like he had in that graveyard two years before, full of energy fueled by fear. But then, he wasn't scared. Not really.

His palm itched to draw his wand. He wanted to fight. His body felt like it was filled to the brim with energy, his nerves screaming at him to move – to do anything but sit still in a chair and talk. It wasn't like Tom was going to hurt him; Harry was sure the man had more control over his temper than that. But he'd never felt like this before; more alive than ever. Somehow, he reigned in his urges. He controlled his breathing as best he could and told Tom about everything that had happened to him over the last few hours.

It didn't take as much time as he thought it would. Everything that had happened at Gringotts seemed to have taken forever even though the battle itself had seemed to be over in an instant. The time spent travelling in the tunnels had contributed to that, he thought. And the time he'd spoken with Griphook. In all, his story would have taken only a few moments had Tom not glared him into elaborating further.

By the time he was through, Tom looked only a little less stormy than before. But, surprisingly, he didn't speak, nursing a cup of tea while slowly turning the fine china in his hands.

Harry still felt that strange energy bubbling just underneath his skin. It made shivers run up and down his spine. If he hadn't been clenching his hands tightly together, they would have been shaking, if not reaching for the wand he kept up his right sleeve. He found that he couldn't stand the silence.

"So. Are you planning on telling me what I did wrong?" Harry asked suddenly, only a second later realizing that he'd sad it rather rudely, too. Expecting to receive a tongue-lashing, Harry jumped when Tom laughed instead.

"It is strange, Harry." Well, that didn't answer his question at all. But Harry froze as a shiver went down his neck. This man confused him. How could even someone's laugh sound dangerous?

Tom was looking at him now. He set his cup on the table that sat between them, next to Harry's cup, which was cold and untouched. The Dark Lord stood, slowly moving around the table towards Harry as he spoke.

"It is strange how you are not frightened of me, when you of all people have the most reason to be." He raised a hand to stop Harry from replying, as he'd been about to. "It's refreshing.

"You've gained the Goblin King's friendship, which is very impressive. But if anyone else had stopped me from doing what I wished in that hospital wing, I would have cursed them on the spot. Regardless of any implied offense to the goblins."

Tom came close to Harry, placing a hand on the arms of Harry's chair, on either side of him, trapping him in place. Harry forced his hands to stay where they were, tangled together as Tom's face hovered inches away from his own.

"I would not hide my nature from you, Harry. I'm not a nice person, even in absence of madness. If anyone else had ended that conversation with the Goblin King like that, disregarding me as completely as you did, I would have killed them."

Tom pulled his wand from his sleeve, and Harry redoubled his efforts not to move. He was trembling now, shivering visibly with anticipation. He recognized what was affecting him so now. It was Tom's magic. It was almost tangible, and his own magic was that energy flowing beneath his skin, wanting to interact with Tom's.

He watched Tom pass his wand over himself. Suddenly, the disguise of Professor Hostes was simply gone. But what remained wasn't the version of Tom he'd seen over the last two years, in the graveyard and in the Ministry of Magic. No, Harry was reminded more of the boy he'd seen in the Chamber of Secrets all those years ago.

This Tom was older, though, perhaps a man in his late thirties. He looked maybe as old as Harry's parents might have been if they were alive. He was as tall as his disguise had been, but a little leaner, and with more muscle. His hair, dark brown, fell past his shoulders. His once clear blue eyes, now the familiar blood red, set into such pale skin, were all Harry could look at.

"If you'll remember, _dear boy_, I am still the dark lord." The man hissed, so close to speaking Parseltongue that the words almost crawled along Harry's skin.

He took short shaky breaths. Finally, when it seemed Tom had nothing more to add, Harry spoke. His voice was quieter than he intended, but it was steady at least.

"If you wanted a partner who would listen only to your orders, perhaps you should have looked elsewhere."

Tom only smiled. It was a deep attracting thing that was mysterious and ambiguous at best.

"Perhaps." He moved away from Harry. He shuddered as Tom turned his back to him, pouring himself another cup of tea, and took yet another shaky breath. He thought, perhaps, with that smile, the danger had passed. He was starting to relax again, and without his tightly coiled muscles straining at his will, Harry decided to ask the question burning at the back of his mind.

"Tom…" The man glanced over his shoulder at his name. Harry felt heat at his cheeks and wondered why he felt as if he should be as embarrassed by his curiosity as he was. "Why is my magic so…?"

He couldn't find a word to describe it. Tingly? Certainly, but it didn't sound right. Violent? No, because it wasn't straining against Harry for violent purposes. At least, that's what he thought. He remembered how he'd felt as he'd trashed Dumbledore's office at the end of the last school year.

"Alive?" Tom asked. Thinking about it, Harry nodded.

"But it's more than that."

"I know." Tom said simply. He turned and pressed a hand against his chest. "I feel it too. It's because our magics are so strong. So potent."

"So my magic is trying to interact with yours?" Harry felt heat burn at his cheeks. The conversation seemed remotely sexual in context now. But he strained to keep his expression serious, as Tom was.

"Yes." The man replied. "As it would if it sensed another with strong magic.

"But…it's never done this before. And, well, we've been near each other for a while." Harry said, his eyes narrowed in confusion, trying to think of what could have changed.

"It might have something to do with your emancipation. Sometimes bonds are put into place on children's magic if the ministry fears they will be unable to control it to the fullest extent. Normally, they are meant to come away when the child reaches adulthood, whether that be a certain age or only in the legal sense."

There was a strange tone to Tom's voice, and Harry looked down at his entangled hands. Here was another thing they must have in common. Tom's magic must have been bound at one point, too. That would certainly explain his vendetta against the ministry.

"But when would they have done that? And how could a goblin signing off on a piece of paper affect something like that."

"It's a complicated bit of magic, but it's simple enough to break, like the Trace that is put on every child's first wand. It just dissipates the moment your adult status is made known, whether legally or biologically. As for when they put it on you, I wouldn't be too surprised if it was Dumbledore himself who did it. The ministry never got close to you until you entered Hogwarts, I assume."

Harry laughed a little at the thought. "My relatives would have had a fit if they had."

"Indeed. I found out about my own bonds in my third year. Dumbledore managed them without me knowing in one of his visits." Tom smirked. "I broke them the following month."

Harry was too exhausted to be angry at yet another problem he had to deal with. He was growing used to Dumbledore's meddling. He stared at his fingers. They weren't shaking anymore. In fact, they were completely still, lying in his lap listlessly, just like how he felt.

"I can make sure they're all gone." Tom said suddenly, after almost a full minute of silence. "When we go to the Room of Requirement tonight."

Harry blinked in surprised remembrance. He'd completely forgotten that they were supposed to meet later tonight. Of course, that was hardly surprising; he'd done so much in the past few hours that he could hardly remember what had happened before then.

"Thanks. I would appreciate it." Harry said with a slight smile.

Tom waved his thanks away. "Go see Severus. I'll bet he's wondering how many injuries he has to patch up this time."

Harry laughed shortly.

"He's going to have me brewing replacements for his stocks soon, with how many I've been using. I'll see you after dinner." Harry got up and left, leaving Tom to stare amusedly at his back.

The man lifted a hand to study it. As he watched, the shaking slowly stilled, his long fingers no longer showing the effect his own magic had caused when he'd sensed Harry's.

And he smiled.

**xXx**

Dinner in the Great Hall was no special affair that night. Severus had checked over Harry's arm and declared it healed, so Harry left the cloth sling off to avoid more attention than he was already getting from the student population. He'd changed into a spare set of robes and sat near Neville, far away from Hermione and Ron, who glared daggers at him when he sat down.

He finished his meal in what must have been record time, considering how full his plate had been, though he still wasn't quite able to stomach a full, healthy serving of food. He listened to Neville chatter on for a bit about herbology, but after a while, his nerves began to creep back up on him. He stood from the long table and smiled at Neville, bidding him a goodnight.

He strolled out into the stone halls of Hogwarts, letting his feet guide him to the Room of Requirement. He still wondered what exactly had happened in Tom's office and the events of Gringotts just overwhelmed him further.

There was so much he wanted to do, and Tom's presence, his sanity, changed everything. The fact that he'd broken down in Severus' chambers and finally thought about everything, trusting that no one in the room would do him harm and that he'd pledged himself to help Tom made him realize he trusted his enemies far more than his would-be allies. He wondered if that said something about himself; if he was a traitor or just someone who had been betrayed.

He snorted and glared at the wall across from him. He forced himself to avoid thinking about anything, just studying the rough texture of the stone. He lost himself for a little while to the quiet peace of not thinking.

But of course it couldn't last for long. Tom, back in the guise of Professor Hostes, came along soon after and ushered Harry into the Room of Requirement. He recognized the room as the one he had used to teach the DA members, though it was a bit more cleared, missing the many cushions. They were replaced by a very thick and large rug that would protect them from the harsh stone floor should a mock duel get more physical.

But for now, sitting welcomingly in front of a warm fireplace, were two large comfortable-looking chairs. Tom put a hand on Harry's shoulder, steering him towards the right-most chair, then took the other for his own.

"So…Where to begin?" Tom asked musingly. "You wanted to speak of plans. And you asked me to teach you. I think the second can wait for a time, considering the fight you had today at Gringotts. What do you think?"

"Definitely." Harry nodded. He wanted to do so many things that it was almost impossible to keep them all straight in his head. He was glad that Tom could prioritize, at least.

"But first, let's see about those bonds." Tom said. "Do you trust me enough to use Legilimency on you?"

Harry blinked, surprised. He hadn't known it would involve Legilimency. He wasn't sure if he wanted to let anyone into his mind. But then, as he examined Tom's questioning expression carefully, he realized that Tom could break into his mind any time he wished, since there was already a connection there.

There was no point in asking if he wanted to cause trouble.

"Go ahead. I want Dumbledore out of my head."

Tom snorted. "I think everyone would like that, if it were possible. But like I said, he's rather hard to get rid of."

Tom leaned forward. "Relax, and don't fight me. These bonds aren't just tied to your magic; they're kept in your mind, too, if they are anything like what he put on me."

"Alright." Harry said awkwardly, having a hard time staring into Tom's eyes for an extended period of time.

"Get ready…_Legilimens._" Tom spoke and Harry felt the man's magic hit him. It wasn't the same as it had been in the Ministry of Magic; no searing pain and no crazed voices laughing in the back of his mind. It wasn't like Severus' own uses of Legilimency on his person, either. It was a softer probe, one that he could hardly feel. In fact, a feeling that accompanied the probe, almost like a lullaby, was lulling him to sleep.

**xXx**

**So, here I was listening to "Twilight Town" from the video game Kingdom Hearts II. It really fits, I think. You should try listening to it while reading this section, especially if you've actually played the game. ^.^**

**xXx**

Harry's mind was a maze. Everyone had a mindscape, though few ever saw it in person. Tom's own was a neverending library, one which he had modeled off of Salazar's chambers, and he actively filled it with information every second of every day. He had been doing that since the moment he'd created it, when he'd first discovered the wonders of Legilimency and Occlumency.

Harry's mind however, was more disorderly than most he'd seen. It was based on the halls of Hogwarts- which explained the nightly wanderings Severus had told him about. But he couldn't find his way around, even though he himself had extensive knowledge of his old home's structures. There were staircases that led to a platform at the bottom of more staircases, which turned out to be the very same staircases he'd just taken. There were steps, like the vanishing step he'd always abhorred, that he just sank completely through, causing him to fall through emptiness to land in a heap in an unknown classroom or broom closet. And the halls were empty of everything.

There were no portraits or suits of armor. There were no people, who, in some people's minds, were linked with wisps of memories. But the thing that most disturbed him, strangely enough, was that there were no windows.

As a Slytherin, he'd become used to the darkness of the dungeons, but darkness in the halls of Hogwarts was not something to which he was accustomed. Floating candles ran in lines above his head everywhere he went, the only things to light his path. The silence was almost suffocating.

And then there were the ruins.

They were hallways and rooms, just like the others, but the ceilings were half crumbled away, revealing only darkness. Stones as large as himself blocked his paths multiple times, but when he reached out to touch them, his hand slid right through, and he was able to continue on through them, unencumbered. Rocks and building stones littered the floors.

Tom wondered what could have caused this much damage to Harry's mind. He strongly doubted that the abuse from the muggles could have hurt him so badly, though it must have left its marks. His first guess was Dumbledore, as it would always be.

He tried to make his way to the places he thought Harry, or at least some evidence of his subconscious, would be. His dorm, perhaps? But no, when he triumphantly climbed through a plain circular doorway, with the wooden door hanging half off its hinges, the tower was empty.

The he went south, to the dungeons. He found them eventually, but they only led on and on into pure, perpetual darkness.

Finally he tried the Room of Requirement, but he only spent long minutes pacing back and forth in front of the wall where he thought it should be. The room was nonexistent.

Salazar's chambers were gone, too. Nothing was here that should have been. Nothing that made Hogwarts the home it was for Harry. It was too empty. There was nothing, not even memories, as far as he could tell. Hours had passed here as he explored Harry's mindscape, but he'd seen no one. He was tempted to leave Harry's mind and ask him whether he had amnesia, but he did not, because he knew better.

Instead, he wandered. He let his footsteps take him where they wished and he found himself outside an empty doorway, looking inside a room at the end of a hallway. He smiled in satisfaction. There stood Harry, his back to him, staring into a mirror.

_Harry_. He tried to speak, but was surprised when nothing came out. He tried again, but it was no use. It was as if someone had used a Silencing charm on him. Harry, as if he had heard him, though, turned around.

This wasn't the same Harry he knew. He looked only twelve or thirteen years old. The boy gestured, smiling at Tom, at the mirror behind him. Accepting the fact that he couldn't speak with a frown, Tom stepped forward to look at the mirror.

He realized he was looking at the Mirror of Erised, of course. He had been interested in creating his own mirror at one point, and he had come upon this mirror in his research. He remembered being informed by one of his followers that the Mirror had been moved into Hogwarts, not long before he had gone to kill the Potter family

But what he saw in the mirror were certainly not his own desires.

He saw the Potters, along with an adult Harry in Auror uniform, standing in a homey kitchen. The woman, Lily, was orchestrating a parade of dishes to be washed and splashing the two Potter men with water. They were all laughing.

Tom felt a pang of sadness and glanced at the young Harry. The boy was smiling sadly. He shook his head and waved his hand over the mirror as if accepting that it was not meant to be. Tom saw the boy's lips move, but could not make out what he was saying.

The scene on the mirror changed, drawing his attention back.

It was him. Not him in his later years, but when he still seemed a good man just about to leave school, about to make his mark on the world. He was smiling happily, rushing out of the gates with other fellow Slytherins, clapping his hand to Abraxas Malfoy's shoulder. His dress robes fluttered out behind him suddenly, caught by a gust of wind, and he threw his pointed graduation cap into it.

He had an auror's badge on his hip, revealed as his cloak blew away from it.

_Well, that's interesting. And it certainly never happened. Hmm…I wonder what exactly is going on in Harry's mind._

Harry mouthed the words again, but Tom, still watching the mirror, only caught them out of the side of his eye. He thought the first word might have been "I". Harry waved his hand again and the scene changed with the motion.

Now he was shown a tomb. A grand thing made of white marble in the middle of a small clearing. The backdrop featured a breathtaking view of Hogwarts. On the plaque was a rather long name, but he only caught a clear glimpse of the last name.

_Dumbledore._ _Well, you have rather low aspirations if that's one of your greatest desires._ Tom wanted to laugh, but still no sound issued from his mouth.

Harry seemed to know what he was trying to communicate, though, and smiled sadly again. He pointed to the side of the tomb. There was a smaller one there that Tom had overlooked, but it was just as grand, made of the same white marble that Dumbledore's tomb was. When he read it, he nearly forgot to breathe in shock.

"_Harry James Potter. Defeater of the Dark Lord. Saviour to us all."_

_You want to be dead?! Why would you-?_

Harry shook his head, not as slowly, as if denying Tom's mental accusation. Then he shrugged, waving his hand at the mirror once again.

The melancholy scene changed with the motion to one where Tom wasn't exactly sure what he was seeing for a moment. When he realized that he was actually seeing the same place as he had not moments ago, he took a step back in disgust.

The ground was littered with bodies. There were no tombs here, no peaceful sleep. Only death.

Two figures stood on the hillock that overlooked Hogwarts. They just stood, staring at each other, he thought. They were backlit by purpling clouds and near-constant lightning, so it was difficult to tell. Suddenly, in one of the flashes, he caught a glimpse of a third person just beyond the tree-line. Tom recognized the man, of course. It was Albus Dumbledore standing in the midst of the bodies, his wand at his side and weaving ever so slightly side to side.

The mirror brought the first two figures closer, as if to show Tom their identities. It was himself and Harry, wands out and at the ready. Suddenly, the two of them moved, casting curses back and forth at each other in a violent rendition of the duel he and Harry had had in Defense against the Dark Arts only a few hours before.

And there it was, that terrible curse, issuing from Tom's wand. It looked as if Harry wouldn't be able to move in time and-

The younger Harry who stood in the room with him rushed forward with a rock in hand, a silent cry on his lips, and smashed it into the mirror. But the scene didn't go away. It only changed to yet another scenario, another taunting idea of what could have been and what could be, even as Harry brought the stone soundlessly against the mirror again and again.

And Tom finally understood. Dumbledore hadn't used the same old bonds as before. It seemed like he hadn't even bothered to bind Harry's magic directly. Instead, he'd silenced Harry's inner voice, creating a lonely silence in his subconscious. It was no wonder the boy could barely sleep through the night, with only his horrible memories to occupy his mind and no impossible dreams to relax him in his sleep. And with this mirror, Dumbledore forced these regrets and fears onto Harry again and again, making him second-guess himself too many times to be certain of any course of action.

No, Dumbledore hadn't bound any of Harry's magic. This Harry in front of him, this child, was the embodiment of a great portion of Harry's magic that was trying to force back Dumbledore's influence. That Harry's magic had begun to react to his meant that more magic was becoming available to him. But it wasn't because the goblins had signed a piece of paper, as Harry had said. It was because he'd begun to pull away from Dumbledore and his influence.

And Tom was in just the position to help Harry the rest of the way.

Tom drew his wand, thinking of the best way to remedy the problem. In the end he settled on the simplest one; the counterspell to _Silencio. _It was a wordless incantation, of course, but Harry's head whipped up from his frustrated gaze at the mirror as Tom felt his magic leave him to counteract the Silencing spell.

"Are you better now?" Tom asked. He nearly jumped at the sound of his own voice after so much silence. The mirror was still working, still showing its horrors and impossible fantasies, but at least the oppressive silence was gone. He would deal with the mirror later, when his head wasn't about to split open from the stress Legilimency put on his mind.

Just seeing the child's face though, was enough to satisfy him. Harry's expression was ecstatic and he was nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet. He stood still in front of Tom, though, instead of rushing forward to hug him as Tom had thought he might.

_My wish came true._

The voice sounded from all around him, though the boy's lips moved at the same time. Then, as Tom blinked and opened his eyes once again, the child had disappeared. There was the faint tingle of magic in the air and Tom sighed. His work done for the moment, he retreated from Harry's mind to tell him the good news.

Just before he left the room, he thought he saw a beam of sunlight peeking into the room from behind him.

**Tell me if you think it was any good at this last section. I worked really hard on it, what with the visions in the Mirror of Erised and all that. And what do you think that wish might be? Anybody?**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hi Everyone! I finally have time to update now! ^.^ I can't say this is much more that a filler though. You'll have to wait till next chappie to hear about Gringotts! XD**

**Cherrie-san, that song you were listening to wouldn't happen to be "In Noctem" would it? If not, I'd love to know the name of it. And DTDY, Guest, dolphindreamer, and Charlie0925, I couldn't message you back, but thanks to each of you for your review! I always love hearing from my reviewers!**

**13**

He couldn't remember anything that Tom was telling him about.

In fact, Harry felt as if he'd only just woken up from a lovely dream that was even now slowly drifting out of his grasp. He mourned it, really. Even though he couldn't remember it, it was the only good dream he'd had for a long time. He knew it wouldn't be back any time soon, either.

Tom had explained how his mindscape seemed so empty and dark. How it had been covered by a silencing spell. And the Mirror of Erised had apparently been the center of this desolate place.

Harry sat curled in his chair, nursing a cup of hot chocolate, listening to Tom go on and on about possible explanations and theories, but most of them, despite his trying to understand, simply went far over his head. He smiled at the man's zeal, though. He could tell that, had he been allowed to teach in the first place, Tom probably wouldn't have ever taken up the mantle of Dark Lord. The man simply reveled in knowledge.

"…the silencing spell, you should begin to experience spurts of accidental magic." Tom completed a train of thought and took a breath before sipping from his own teacup. Harry sat up straight, alarmed. His hand clenched around his cup.

"What? Why?"

Tom gave him a knowing look, which was mixed with irritation at being so obviously ignored, but he kindly re-explained himself.

"The silencing spell was keeping all your magic concentrated on the mirror. Now, with that gone, you can begin to repair your mindscape; unconsciously of course, unless you want to try your hand at Occlumency again."

Harry shook his head with a sheepish look.

"But after your mindscape is satisfactorily repaired, your magic will only need to focus on two things: the Mirror of Erised and your physical body, which is what magic is usually primarily focused on. Since you have not had access to that magic for so long, you will not be able to control it as easily as you can now. It is more wild and used to acting of its own accord."

"You're likening my magic to a wild animal?" Harry asked, a little amused at the metaphor.

"It is an apt description, yes. But like a wild animal, you magic will not always be under your leash. Hence the accidental magic."

There was silence for a moment. Then Harry shook his head and smiled, despite the situation.

"You just dumbed it down for me, didn't you?" He asked, finally setting his near-empty cup on the little table that Tom had conjured not too long before which sat to the side of Harry's own chair. Tom mirrored his actions, placing his tea on a small table next to his own chair. He stood and went closer to the fireplace.

"A little." Tom admitted. "It's a complex bit of Legilimency to explain in any situation. But now, the situation is made worse by the fact that this mirror has been stealing you magic's 'attention' –for lack of a better word- for years. A person's mind and magic are always closely intertwined, but in your case- well, your case seems increasingly convoluted. It's almost like half of your magic has always been hidden from you."

"But I've never noticed it." Harry protested. "Wouldn't I notice that much magic being simply…gone? Wouldn't I have a hard time casting spells or something? If that was true, then I probably wouldn't be able to cast the Patronus charm as well as I can."  
"Not so. For two reasons." Tom added as Harry seemed about to argue. "First, I said always, which means that, from the time your magic became preoccupied, you had no access to it, whatsoever. If Dumbledore was indeed the person who did this, then it probably happened when he had you taken to your relatives, or soon after. As a baby, you can't realize that the integral part of yourself that has been taken away is your magic. Harry, you simply never knew what you were missing."

Harry frowned, not liking what had apparently been done to him when he was just a baby.

"As for the second, with the Patronus charm, any witch or wizard can cast it, even a squib, if they can conjure up the mental willpower to form it. The more powerful a witch or wizard, the more of a shape the Patronus takes. Your Patronus is admirable, I must admit. However, I think that you are far more powerful than anyone ever thought. To have so much magic available even after these spells…well, the remainder of your magic might have overdeveloped to compensate, but I'd rather wait and see the results for myself.

Harry swallowed. Tom was looking at him with that predatory look again, a smile on his face while he absently rubbed his thumb along the edge of the fireplace mantle. He grasped for something to say, and something that had been bothering him at the edge of his thoughts popped to mind.

"But what about the damage to my mindscape? You said it looked like Hogwarts. If that was so, wouldn't that mean that the damage was sustained _after_ I came to Hogwarts for the first time? I'd never been here before, after all."

Tom seemed thoughtful about that. "Perhaps…but I don't think so. The damage could have been present to begin with and then simply transferred over to your concrete mindscape."

"Concrete?"

"It's something that's developed during a witch or wizard's adolescence. Before that, their mindscape is constantly changing until one event or place makes an extreme imprint on that person. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if your mindscape hadn't been someplace in your relatives' home at one point. Or even your parents' if you could have remembered it.

"But the Mirror of Erised…yes, that does seem to be something strange. It could have…no, but…" Tom trailed off, mumbling to himself. Then he frowned, long and hard, as if he had just tasted something extremely disgusting.

"Tom?" Harry asked.

"Was Dumbledore ever with you when you were asleep? When you weren't aware of his actions?"

"Yes. Throughout the years, I've been unconscious in the hospital wing enough times." Harry said, furrowing his brow and trying to catch Tom's line of thinking.

"He probably created the Mirror of Erised in your mindscape after your initial contact with the physical object. You would have had to have an understanding of its purpose for it to gain such meaning in your mind. When did you first find it?"

"My…first year. The same year you possessed Professor Quirrell." Harry said, lost for a moment. "But you know that, don't you? The mirror hid the Philosopher's Stone."

Tom blinked. "No. I don't remember much from when…well, before the graveyard. But!" Tom returned to the topic at hand abruptly. "After that, Dumbledore must have planted the Mirror in your mind. I can't think of any other way for it to have existed in your mindscape before you were introduced to it. The damage, yes. The silence, yes. The darkness, certainly. But you had no concept of the Mirror before your first year, so it could not have existed in your mind."

"So I have to understand something before it can exist in my mind?"

"Or simply know it, yes. You don't need to know the complex machinations behind it to be able to imagine it. Picture a watch, for example. When you think of it, you see the watch face and the hands moving over its surface. But you probably don't think of the complex system of gears that move those hands, and that system is not necessary for you to recognize what you imagined as a watch. Your mind is your imagination, Harry." Tom breathed out the last bit, as if he were amazed at the ingenuity of a living being's mind.

But then, why shouldn't he be? It seemed amazing enough to Harry who couldn't begin to understand these things. It seemed as if the mindscape was certainly not bound by the rules of the world outside it. And Tom, who knew far more about it, would be in far more of a position to judge the extraordinary capabilities of the mind.

"So…" Harry started quietly. "What can we do about it? The Mirror is still there, isn't it?"

"It is. But I won't use Legilimency on you again for a little while. We need to give your mindscape a chance to recover. My way of entering your mind may seem gentle, but any intrusion like that can cause damage, even if it stays unseen for a time." Tom answered softly, as if he were trying to calm Harry down. Harry was a little irritated at the tone, since he wasn't upset, but he ignored the urge to scowl in response.

"I wanted to ask about that. Before, when Severus used Legilimency on me, it…hurt. It hurt a lot. Why didn't…Why didn't I feel anything this time?"

Tom smiled in response. "Did it never cross your mind that I am simply that good?"

Harry's eyebrows raised and he snorted. "Yes. That's not being full of yourself at all." He deadpanned.

Tom gave a short bark of laughter. "Not at all, Harry. You must realize that I am far older than you know; nearly twice Severus's age. I've had far more practice, I think. But even if that weren't so, my magic is more powerful as well, which is an important factor in Legilimency and Occlumency."

Harry nodded instead of saying anything. The topic change hadn't kept the thoughts away. Thoughts about what he would do when his magic began to get unpredictable. Thoughts filled with anger at what Dumbledore had done to him. What he had done to Tom.

And now he knew that something had to be done. If Dumbledore wouldn't even stop at altering someone's mind, the one place that they should have complete control over, then he would probably go even further than that.

"Harry?" Tom was still standing by the fireplace, but he'd turned to face Harry completely. "What were you thinking?"

"I was just thinking about Dumbledore." Harry answered. He leaned back in his chair and pulled his legs underneath him. "I mean, how much of what's happened is a result of Dumbledore messing around with us. How much of what happened at Gringotts was _him_? He could have even ordered Bruzon's assassination, not just the attack on Griphook."

Tom was silent for a moment before he nodded. "It's possible. Even I have no idea what sort of influence he has in truth. He's not a person who wields political power in the open. He can influence certain people and groups without even them realizing it. It's one reason he is so dangerous."

"We can't do anything about that?" Harry asked.

"Not us. But I think we both know someone who can." Tom said with a vicious smile. Harry felt his lips twitch.

"That person wouldn't happen to be a Malfoy, would it?" He asked, amused. When Tom nodded, a laugh escaped him. "Does he know? About you, I mean."

Tom sighed. "Yes. He and a few others are aware of my return to sanity. None besides Severus, Lucius, and Rodolphus Lestrange, though, are aware of what I am doing here. I thought it prudent to keep it secret."

Hearing the name Lestrange, Harry couldn't help the flash of red hot anger that went through him. His godfather's death was still fresh in his memory, after all, as was his godfather's killer. Bellatrix Lestrange. She was still out there somewhere.

Tom didn't seem to realize what he was thinking, since he went on. "I won't reveal anything to the rest of them for the time being. I have no idea how many spies I have within my ranks. So many witches and wizards joined so quickly that there has been no time to screen them accurately. And, shortly after being returned to my body, I had not the presence of mind to oversee such a project anyway."

Harry didn't pay much attention to the words, but he caught a few of them, and his anger at Bellatrix Lestrange retreated for the moment behind the veil of curiosity. "How exactly have you…well, become more sane? You said you weren't sure before, but… you must have some idea."

"I don't know, Harry. I really don't." Tom said, crossing back to his chair and sitting down. "It could be many things: Using your blood for the ritual, or even just using the ritual. Before you expelled my spirit from my body to begin with, I'd been surrounded by dark magic, and ideas that shouldn't have moved me from my chosen path did. I became corrupted; something I never thought could happen." Tom tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling, entranced with it as someone taken over by memories could become. "And then suddenly, not long after the ritual took place, just as I was beginning to settle into a physical body again, my mind began to come back to me. It was little things at first. Derision towards certain people in my ranks, ones who full-heartedly agreed that killing muggles and muggleborns was the best thing to do to 'fix' the wizarding world. Anger at purebloods for their arrogance in their feelings of superiority. I began to realize that my original goals had not been met at all. And I realized that I was becoming myself again."

"Well, that's good for me at least." Harry said with a lopsided smile. "I for one am happy you're not a complete homicidal maniac."

"Why, thank you, Harry." Tom said with a snort.

"You're welcome." Harry replied with a nod. Somehow, he managed not to laugh. But he did remember one last thing he wanted to bring up. "How exactly are we going to do this? And what exactly are we doing to begin with? Taking over the ministry? Hogwarts? What?"

"I was hoping to work on those issues more quietly than I have in the past. Get people I trust elected and have them change laws. It really isn't a good idea to start another full-out war when it isn't necessary."

"And Hogwarts?" Harry pressed.

"It's simple, I think. We just need to get Dumbledore out of the Headmaster position and have some proper teachers brought it."

"It'll be harder than that." Harry said with a laugh. "He definitely won't want that."

"No…" Tom said. "He probably wouldn't. But that doesn't mean it won't happen."

They talked for a while longer. Although it had seemed like Tom had been in Harry's mind for hours, it had in reality been much shorter than that. There were still a few hours yet before classes would begin again for the next day. Harry and Tom said their goodnights and went to their separate beds; Harry in Severus' chambers of course.

Once Harry lay down and closed his eyes, he slept like he never had before. A warm comforting sleep that refreshed him, untroubled by dreams or nightmares or memories.

And it was good.

**xXx**

He should have known everything would go to hell just as everything started to make sense. He'd woken up happier then he'd ever been that morning, Severus' hand on his shoulder, shaking him lightly awake.

He'd trudged up from the dungeons like any teenager woken up too early in the morning for school and sat down heavily on a bench at the Gryffindor table. There weren't many students up this early, and it seemed that Severus wanted to torture him into awakeness. Ron and Hermione, among maybe four or five other students were his only company at the table, though he was careful to sit at the opposite end, where they wouldn't bother him.

In the quiet, he could almost hear the two of them fuming over his presence and he pointedly ignored them, looking across the Great Hall to the other tables. There were more Slytherins than any other house present, filling perhaps half of the overly long table. The Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables were almost completely deserted.

Harry nearly laughed at the thought that there were so many sleepy kids still in bed when most classes started within the hour. And with that happy thought, he dug in to his food, stuffing his abused stomach as much as it could stand.

He was still nibbling at his breakfast about ten minutes later- with a far more substantial crowd of students- when he received Bruzon's letter. It came in the midst of the daily flurry of owls, so abruptly that, at first, Harry was not sure the owl had found the right person. It was a simple message:

_**Griphook is awake. You must come as soon as possible. Bring your friends if you can. –B**_

It was short and to the point, but it filled Harry with dread, even if the reference to his "friends" made him smile for a moment. He glanced up at the head table after almost reflexively throwing a piece of bacon to the regal black hawk that had delivered the small scroll. She, if that was the bird's gender, clicked her beak in thanks and took to the air once again.

Severus was already looking at him, having noticed the owl. They shared a frown which fairly communicated that they would speak later. But when Harry looked to the opposite end of the head table to find Tom, the man wasn't there. He glanced back at Severus before standing. Making sure Hermione and Ron were not paying him attention too closely, he made his way out of the Hall.

The only other professor who wasn't at the Head Table was Dumbledore, which was rare for the man. It led him to think that Dumbledore and Tom were together somewhere. And while Harry was sure that Tom could handle himself, he wouldn't have left anyone alone to deal with Dumbledore, not even, ironically, his worst enemy.

Harry folded the note from Bruzon and stuffed it in his pocket. He would try Tom's chambers first.

**xXx**

Tom was in his office, grading papers, when Dumbledore decided to pay his little visit.

He was basking in the occupation while he could, while the glow of the triumph of achieving a professor position still dulled the tedium of the job. Besides, marking pages with red ink would be enjoyable to anyone, especially if you weren't the one receiving the graded paper in the end. Not that he'd know anything about that last bit, of course. He couldn't remember ever seeing a drop of it on _his_ classwork.

He smiled at the thought. He loved being a teacher far more than he'd thought he ever would, and far more than he'd loved being a student. And the students here were nowhere near as dull as Severus would have liked him to believe. No, they'd just never been taught in the right way.

And the students who had been in that club of Harry's were very confident in using the spells they knew, which was a very good thing. If you know the basic spells, then you can easily build upon them later. If not, well, it was a slight bit more difficult.

It probably hadn't helped one whit that he'd cursed this position so long ago that not a single one of them could have gotten any good out of one Defense Against the Dark Arts class. He'd heard that Remus Lupin had done a satisfactory job, but he'd focused on creatures instead of magic. Tom sighed. He supposed he'd have to make up for lost time.

There was a knock on his door and he looked up from his grading and narrowed his eyes. He'd charmed his door to send him the magical signatures of anyone who touched it. And if he wasn't mistaken, the person knocking on his door now was Albus Dumbledore.

"Come in." He called.

"Ah, Vincent." Dumbledore called in that infuriating voice, using Tom's false first name as if it would endear him to the old man somehow. "I'd hoped to find you here."

"Yes, Headmaster? Do you need help with something?"

Dumbledore came further into the room after shutting the office door behind him. Before Tom could even suggest that the man sit down – though, he wouldn't have had he not had to maintain appearances – Dumbledore came around the chair in front of his desk and plopped down like a child testing out a new mattress.

"Nothing such as that, my boy." Dumbledore waved his offer down with a smile and the infuriating pet name that he refused to abandon. "I merely wanted to see how you were settling in to Hogwarts. We have not had the chance to speak since your interview for the position. You have had no problems I trust?"

"None at all, sir. I am enjoying the position so far." Tom said truly with a pleased smile on his face. What fun was being in disguise if you couldn't flaunt your victory in someone's face without them even realizing it?

"That's good, that's good." Dumbledore nodded, likely completely ignoring Tom's remarks so that he could get on with what he came for. "I must admit that I'm sorry I saddled you with our young Mr. Potter while you are still trying to get used to the school. But it seems that none of the other teachers are available to help and Professor Snape, who would normally do the detentions, is emotionally compromised when it comes to dear Harry."  
"May I ask what exactly he's done wrong, Headmaster? He won't say." Tom asked, feigning ignorance.

"Of course, my boy." Dumbledore looked pleased at his curiosity and nodded. "It seems he's been telling lies. He got into trouble over it last year, but I wasn't here to help him. He's been claiming his relatives have been abusing him. But I went personally to check on the issue and I rather thought they were a pleasant little family; nice and caring." Dumbledore pulled a wrapped candy from a pocket and popped it into his mouth after unwrapping it. He nodded sagely in time with the three words. Thankfully, he didn't give Tom a chance to respond. Tom wasn't really sure what he would say anyway, not with the anger that was beginning to fill his veins.

"And then not two days ago, Mr. Potter claimed that his two best friends were being paid to _be_ his friends. It was quite ridiculous, and it actually ended in blows. A shame, really. I hope that serving detention will straighten him out soon; or at least exhaust him to the point that he doesn't have time to think up anything new. Haha." Dumbledore chortled. Tom had to admit, the old fool really was a brilliant liar.

"I see. Yes, that is a shame. Umm…" Tom trailed off as if he had thought it better not to ask the question on the tip of his tongue. Dumbledore lifted his chin invitingly.

"Yes, Vincent. I can see you had a question. What was it?" Dumbledore coaxed.

"Well, sir, I was wondering why Professor Snape would be, er, compromised in dealing with Mr. Potter. He seems quite strict with his students."

"Ah, yes. You see, Severus was at one time in love with Harry's mother." Dumbledore leaned forward conspiratorially. "He sees her in him, and I'm afraid he just can't punish him fairly." He shook his head sadly.

_That is not your business to tell!_ Tom raged in his mind. He remembered how Severus had begged him to spare Lily. He'd never seen such pain in a man's eyes before then.

Suddenly there was another knock at his door. It was Harry, presumably here to rescue him from the old codger.

"Come in." Tom called again.

The door cracked open and Harry's head popped in.

"I'm here to help during my free period, sir. I'm not interrupting, am I?" Harry asked innocently. Tom could barely suppress his smile. He was about to answer when Dumbledore interrupted him. The older wizard stood and waved his hand in the negative.

"No, no, Harry. You're not interrupting, I was just about to leave for breakfast myself. I'll speak to you later, Mr. Vincent. And you, Harry. Have a lovely day!" The man bounced jovially out the door and down the hallway.

Harry came fully into the room and was about to speak, but Tom put a finger to his lips to indicate silence. Harry obeyed and watched as Tom stood and waved his wand through the air, moving his lips silently through incantations. Finally, after a minute of this, Tom put his wand away and gestured for Harry to sit.

"You were searching for…spying charms?" Harry asked, struggling for the right term.

"Eavesdropping charms at the very least, yes. It seems he came merely as a rumormonger, though; I didn't find anything."

"He doesn't suspect you, then?

"Oh, he suspects someone. He has to know that you were in Gringotts, but he doesn't know how you got there. You're supposedly not strong enough to apparate there, and you don't know how to make a portkey. That leaves the floo network, and no student can use that unsupervised. But I don't think he suspects me."

"Who then?" Harry asked.

"Well, it seems like he was trying very hard to pass on a negative vision of Severus to me. He said that Severus was 'emotionally compromised'."

"Hmm…he probably shouldn't go with us to Gringotts again, then. No good attracting attention to his movements as well as mine." Harry stood and dug in one of his pockets, finally pulling out a small scroll and handing it over to Tom.

After Tom read it, he set his wand to it and set it alight with fire. Once all that was left of it was ashes, he nodded. "I agree. We should go to Gringotts tonight and see what's happened. I don't like the urgency in those words. Something's happened."

"I thought so, too." Harry agreed.

"That's settled then. For the time being, though, you'd best get to work reading your potions book. Last I talked to Severus, he was planning on testing your skills again today." Tom grinned as Harry groaned.

"Just when life is becoming simple…" Harry grumbled, pulling his potions book from the bag he'd been hauling around on his shoulder.

"Ah, but Harry, a simple life is simply not fun." Tom said. He put his pen back to the paper at hand and scratched out an elegant "D" for "Dreadful" at the top.


End file.
